The Howling
by AnaRose17
Summary: A rather inconvenient side effect of getting his soul back was that Sam didn't remember that one werewolf hunt that had left him not quite so human. Led by his new instincts, he goes looking for his mate... Rated M for sexual content. Werewolf Sam!
1. I Was A Soulless Hunter

**Disclaimer: **I've been wanting the Winchester boys for Christmas for years now, but apparently, I've been a bad girl, because they're _still_ not mine. Santa and I will need to have a serious talk.

But until he wings his red-coated ass over here from North Pole, I'm afraid Supernatural with all its epicness still belongs to Eric Kripke.

So this is a story my bff Samantha and I came up with together, we hope you enjoy the outcome of our endless talks about the many fine qualities of Sam Winchester as much as we do!

**Warnings**: Where do I start?

There'd be the obvious AU, since this is Sam as a, err, well, lust-driven werewolf. Which brings me to the next point on the 'warning' agenda: This story will include sexual content, and not of the vanilla kind, either. Then there'd be kinkiness, dirty minds, sarcasm (I don't exclude the possibility of dark cynic and some language, either, and critic takes on society, and anything else in my way) and most definitely no 'rose and chocolate' love, so if you're looking for doves and rings; not the right address.

Phew, now that I've got the obligatory moral speech over with, on to the fun part. ;D

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><p>[<strong>Were-wolf]<strong>

_(in folklore and superstition) a human being __who has changed into a wolf, or is capable of assuming the form of a wolf, while retaining human intelligence. _

**[Lust] **

–_noun _

_1. __intense sexual desire or appetite. _

_2. __uncontrolled or illicit sexual desire or appetite; lecherousness. _

_3. __a passionate or overmastering desire or craving: __a lust for power. _

–_verb_

_4.__ to have intense sexual desire. _

_5. __to have a yearning or desire; have a strong or excessive craving _

**[In Heat]**

_In a state of sexual excitement immediately preceding ovulation. This expression applies to most female mammals and indicates the period when the animal is fertile and most receptive to mating. _

* * *

><p>Zoe Heart was a virgin. Not just any virgin, either, but a rather prude and introverted one. Unhealthily strong faith in God will do that to you.<p>

That beforehand, some other random info plucked out of her CV: She was 20 years old, a college student working as a secretary for a small family business in the freezy state of Minnesota, also commonly called 'Middle of Nowhere'.

And no, she never dreamt of getting out, since you needed a certain inner drive for that; Zoe didn't. She had built her fairy tale castle here. Of course, it was built from nothing but air and heedless hopes, but hey, details.

Said fairytale castle looked like this: White picket fence, nice little house, loving banker husband, working from 9 to 5, of course, and some years from now, lovely little brats to take care of all day, that is, when Zoe wouldn't be standing behind the hearth to cook pot roasts for the whole family.

Ah, sweet country life.

Problem with the forests up there were the wolves; naturally every American owned a gun; that was what the Second Amendment was for, after all, right? So when the fine furry friends from the woods came to munch on some cattle, they were quickly taken care of.

So much for the_ Canis Lupus_.

_Were_wolves were a slightly different matter, especially when they came in a very fine, very unfurry, very handsome and muscular and most of all a very horny package.

* * *

><p>Sam Winchester didn't follow the metrosexuality trend that had infected an estimated 99,9% of the male population and caused millions of girlfriends to invest in a second bathroom so they could do their ten-minute make-up while their boyfriends were having their one-hour make-out session with their mirror image.<p>

Yes, the world was coming to an end, even without the Judeo-Christian apocalypse and Lucifer out on a killing spree. Men just weren't men anymore these days.

Either way, since Sam Winchester belonged to the remaining 0,1% who were still capable of feeling comfortable (and get laid as part of natural order, not as the result of knocking girls unconscious and willing with the strong odour of aftershave OD) without any cosmetic hassle, he didn't as much as glance at the mirror this morning.

If he had, he might have seen the odd scar on his shoulder that was ridiculously similar to a bite mark; and not the love bite kind.

Amnesia could be a blessing if it meant you forgot your soulless time; it could be an outright curse if it meant you didn't remember you were supposed to have taken an anti-dote to that son of a werewolf bitch who bit you just before you got your moral centre piece back shoved into you. Inconveniently blacking out your memory.

_Howl_.

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><p>Zoe looked at the eyelash curler as if it had the greeting card 'From hell with hate' attached to it. Blue-green – at least, that's what her passport said; she rather thought it just blue – eyes looked at her from the mirror, framed by lashes about as visible as Nicole Kidman's naturalness.<p>

"Well, worst case scenario, I'll go blind," Zoe awkwardly brought the tongs to her left eye, figuring it would be the lesser loss than the right.

"Huh," She critically looked at herself. Somehow she'd managed to move her eyelashes against gravity's pull and not poke out her eyeball. "Miracles happen every day."

"Wow, now in all my lifetime, I would have never thought to see you changing anything about your _God-given_ appearance," Lola, her college roommate, gave Zoe an inquisitive once-over and then closed the door behind her.

"You shouldn't mock God," Zoe reproached mechanically in that good-hearted manner of hers. It was just her luck to get stuck with an agnostic Atheist in one room. She hung up a cross on her side of the room, Lola countered with a poster of Dan went to midnight mass, Lola came home wasted and her clothes messier than Zoe's hair on a stormy autumn day.

Oh, well, their different faiths, or rather not-faiths, cast aside, the girls got along. Until they were in the same room.

Alright, that was an exaggeration. Lola and Zoe were friends, but with different views on what to achieve in life.

"Marrying that young is a mistake, by the way," Lola's clarity of speech was somewhat affected by the toothpaste and –brush muffling her. Waiting with her wise-ass remarks until she was done was too much too ask, apparently.

"No, it's not. Sleeping around is a mistake."

"Says who? If you ask me, fucking's way too much fun to be anything wrong."

Zoe flinched from the harsh sound of the horribly colloquial word for such a sacred act of matrimony (normal people can just call it sex). "It's a sin. S…s…"

"Sex. Repeat after me, Zoe: _Sex_. Three letters, come on, sweetie, say them back to me."

Zoe glared and snapped: "A physical relationship should just be entertained with your spouse, not with random bikers you pick up in those bars!"

"What, so that I end up like you? You ever considered that Marc just marries you so he can finally lay you? It's too high a price and way too much hassle, if you ask me, but hey, men just think with their downstairs brain, anyways."

"Say what you want, Lola. Everybody has to make that decision for her or himself. I'm saving myself for the one man I love, and I'll give him my sacred gift on our wedding night, not sooner."

"That's generally called a Venus Trap. Poor testosterone driven saps just realize they've tied the knot when they wake from the post-coital haze and then it's already too late." Lola picked up her bag and minced away on her scandalous heels.

"Whatever," Zoe muttered. She wouldn't give up her beliefs, morals and ideals for anyone, not ever. No, she would marry Marc next month and lead the sweet life she'd been dreaming of ever since she'd seen "Wives of Stepford" – whereby one may have to mention she had drifted off to sleep that night and had never seen the ending.

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><p>"Dean, I need to take some time off… from everything."<p>

The older Winchester brother looked up to his younger sibling, not too surprised. The whole 'thinking, brooding, stopping to wonder about the moral correctness of my past acts' thing had always been typical for Sam. Well, unless he had his soul locked down in the devil's cage; he'd been a lot looser without his soul. "I've heard the Florida Keys ain't too bad this time of the year."

"It's _February_." Had Dean paid any attention in Geography whatsoever? Probably not. Hot female fellow classmates were such a buzz kill for learning.

"Yeah," Dean replied, and Sam wasn't too sure he saw the problem in that, "So what were you thinking? Nature hike? Cruise?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm not talking about a holiday, Dean, just some alone time to think, okay?"

"No, not okay – I'm on scratch patrol."

"Oh, come on, I've already taken one tiny glimpse behind the curtain and that was bad enough. I'm not too eager on repeating that. I'll be fine. Promise."

"As long as this isn't another of your 'bailing family' trips, okay." Dean eventually agreed. If he didn't let Sam sort his thoughts out, God knows where they might accumulate and what they'd burst open. "Call regularly, you hear me?"

Sam smiled. "Promise. I won't be more than a few weeks."

Days left until full moon: Seven. There's a reason they call it the unlucky number.

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><p><em><strong>Howl <strong>_

If you could only see the beast you've made of me  
>I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free<br>Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart  
>Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart<p>

My fingers claw your skin, try to tempt my way in  
>You are the moon that makes the night for which I have to howl<br>My fingers claw your skin, try to tempt my way in  
>You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to<p>

Howl, howl  
>Howl, howl<p>

Now there's no rolling back, I'm aching to attack  
>My blood is singing with your voice, I want to pour it out<br>The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound  
>I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallowed ground<p>

Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins  
>I want to find you and tear out all of your tenderness<p>

And howl, howl  
>Howl, howl<p>

Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers  
>Starts so soft and sweet and turns them into hunters<p>

Hunters, hunters, hunters  
>Hunters, hunters, hunters<p>

The fabric of your flesh, pure as a wedding dress  
>Until I wrap myself inside your arms I cannot rest<br>The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound  
>I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallowed ground<p>

And howl

Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers  
>Starts so soft and sweet and turns them into hunters<p>

A man who's pure of heart and says his prayers by night  
>May still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright<p>

If you could only see the beast you've made of me  
>I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free<br>The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound  
>I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallowed ground<p>

– Florence and the Machines


	2. Distant Close Encounter

**I'm going to TRANSFORM him, and unleash the savage instincts that lie hidden within…**

_**Dr Alfred Brandon, I Was a Teenage Werewolf**_

* * *

><p>When you want remoteness and distance from the rest of the world, which state would you pick?<p>

Sam chose Minnesota.

Lakes, forests, nothing but nothingness; yes, Minnesota was a wonderful place to clear your mind, since there was about as much distracting you as there was nutritious value in cheeseburgers.

Unless someone slipped a piece of lettuce in-between. For Sam and his meditation time, the equivalent of unexpected vitamins in fast food was a young girl trapping his attention like a bear trap.

Or wolf trap.

* * *

><p>Zoe turned up the heating in her already stuffy office and warmed her slender fingers on the gazillionth cup of tea that day. What her fun and amusement qualities lacked in strength, her bladder had in abundance.<p>

The phone rang and forced her to abandon her web search for the perfect wedding dress. "Diver Farming, Zoe Heart speaking."

Zoe noted down the orders, making a mental note to herself as she did to maybe get a manicure for her wedding, for the first time in her life.

Her eyes travelled over the dead pot plants to the clock ticking on the wall. Half an hour to go before she would meet Marc for dinner.

Despite Zoe not being one of those girls who enhance their looks by seductive clothing causing them nephritis and pounds of make-up suffocating their faces, she was pretty.

Hazelnut hair, gently curled like strung-out corkscrews and glossy like the silk it felt like. Eyes of a blue so intense they made the summer sky bow its head in shame. Seductive curves proportionally spread out over a 5'6 height and a face contoured by soft edges.

Pretty enough that men considered her purity promise a shame; would she put some more effort into her appearance, she would even be pretty enough even to make men willing to marry her just to lay her.

Zoe wasn't stupid, though; she knew true intentions when she saw them. Marc really loved her, she was sure he was… that's why he was the one who she'd give everything to. Zoe believed that by preserving her 'virtue', she'd avoid slipping onto the wrong lane like so many of her college comrades had.

Given, Bemidji wasn't known for its metropolitan aura, but that didn't mean existences couldn't crash to the ground here as well as elsewhere. Teenage pregnancies, drugs, alcohol, homelessness, all that, Zoe knew she would avoid by following her faith. It would keep her safe.

* * *

><p>Sam's head pounded as if he'd gone through a bender marathon last night.<p>

Aspirin turned out to be useless, so did Tylenol and every other pain killer from the medicine collection he carried around with him. It wasn't that the headaches were connected with images; he would understand the pain if those memory snaps of hell were hosting a slide show before his inner eye. However, that wasn't it.

A cold shower couldn't cool the heat of his skin; the heat he knew he radiated, but couldn't feel himself.

'What the hell?' Sam growled and wondered if maybe, his whacked up job had left behind traces on his sanity, after all.

It wasn't until the next day he would find out that it wasn't his mind hunting had left traces on, but rather his physiology.

With all due respect, Geology was about the most boring and pointless subject ever invented. Who wants to study dirt and rocks? Exactly.

Unsurprising it was therefore that Zoe granted herself the luxury of dozing off.

_Strong hands on her pale skin, manhandling her hips… a bruising touch, but so arousing. She wanted more, she wanted to taste him on her lips, feel him. Rustling of sheets, faint light casting shadows. A consuming, burning hot flame inside of her as she wanted nothing more but to have _him_ inside of her. _

Zoe returned to this plane of reality with a yelp, which earned her a few queer looks from her fellow students. Those still awake, anyways.

Her cheeks blushed a nice shade of tomato from shame; those had been indecent, unchaste images, she didn't even want to know where the passion in them came from… surely not her subconscience?

Couldn't be; because whoever the mysterious, tall dark handsome stranger was, it hadn't been Marc. Not that that necessarily made it any better…

Zoe forced herself to listen to the lecture; would it have been any other class than Geology, it might have worked. Now, however, there was absolutely nothing to keep her from tasting the remaining passion her dream had left behind: Zoe was scared to discover it was _lust_.

"Zo? You okay?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah," Zoe shook her head at her friend Jane, "Fine, why?"

"You just seem a little… out of it."

"Just had a weird daydream, that's all," Zoe smiled. "We still on for dinner tonight?"

"'Course. You want a dream reading?" Jane waggled her eyebrows.

"Thank you, but I'll pass. I don't even remember it, it was just strange, that's all." Zoe had a fair idea of how that reading would go: Jane would accuse her of having suppressed desires, and that her subconscious was expressing its need for sex through dreams, and that Zoe should finally get laid and let out her inner animal.

'Just a dream, Zo, just a dream,' She calmed herself. For a simple dream, though, it had left her suspiciously wet and hot between her legs.

* * *

><p>With two more days left before full moon, Sam was nowhere near feeling like himself. He didn't know what it was, he just was acutely aware of his humanity being pushed into the background and his needs taking over center stage.<p>

His _senses_ were oddly sharpened, but his _sense_ was reduced in so far as that he didn't wonder about that; not until late that night, when he ambled down the pedestrian precinct – roaming was more like it, actually – and suddenly caught a scent so intense that he knew something supernatural must be going on with him. The way his eyes immediately zoned in on the source of that alluring scent wasn't human.

Her hair was a dark shade of caramel, carelessly flicked over her shoulder as she pranced down the street. Blue eyes, with specks of green, glowing vibrantly. Pale skin, white like the full moon Sam felt would be the day after tomorrow without ever having glanced at the lunar calendar. Flawless skin that screamed to be marked, branded; a lush body demanding to be taken, offering itself like an open buffet.

Her appearance mattered very little, to be honest; in the end it was her aura that sealed her fate. Sam just knew he needed to possess her.

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><p>Zoe snuggled closer to her pillow and pulled the covers up to chin. Normally, she would say her nightly prayer now and fall right asleep.<p>

Then again: Normally, she didn't doze off during class and dream of handsome strangers doing unchaste things to her.

So instead of holding monologues to God, Zoe's mind fell prey to the siege of inappropriate images that in turn conjured unknown feelings.

_Rough hands slipping off her night gown. They ran up her naked waist, grabbed her breasts. Her body was buried underneath his, and damn, did he have a fine physique…_

Zoe's eyes flew open in shock and she quickly took her hand away from the naughty place it had been about to go. Face burning with shame and guilt, she kicked the sheets off and dived under the shower. The heat remained no matter how freezing the water was.

* * *

><p>Opening his eyes slowly, as if suspicious of the light outside, Sam found he remembered little to nothing of what he'd done last night. Just one name stuck: Zoe Heart.<p>

Rumbling through his memory like one would rummage through a messy trunk, Sam tried to figure out where he'd gotten that name from that pounded so intensely against his skull.

_A scent. Intense; like caramel, but sweeter. Better_, sexier.

Sam just wished the cold water he splashed onto his face could calm this inner heat of his. If he wouldn't feel so strong and alive, he'd think he was coming down with a fever.

A look in the mirror told him the blunt truth. His pupils had narrowed to the point of near invisibility, and when he ran his tongue over his teeth, he discovered them to be sharper than they were before.

Just _thinking_ of that girl turned him into an animal.

As his humanity receded, memory came back.

_She had a swaying edge in her walk, seductive but barely visible. He saw it, though; the way her rounded hips teased him with their discreet dance. A breeze tangled with her hair, carrying her alluring scent over to him and striking right into his lust centre. _

_His newly re-gathered soul squelched his urge to ravish the girl right on the spot, regardless of what that would make him. However, his soul wasn't strong enough to let her go completely; so he followed her home. He didn't even need to step closer to her doorstep to read the name underneath the doorbell. _

_Zoe Heart._

"I must be nuts," Sam groaned as he got into his rental car, dressed all formal like fake FBI agents usually are and headed for the local college. It was a shot in the dark, but better than no shot at all. "Let's hope mystery girl isn't only pretty but also has brains."

Sam checked his badge to recall the name he'd be using this time – Agent Richards it was today – and then headed for the office.

"Can I help you?" The secretary's head shot up. According to her hairstyle, she just jumped out of the movie 'Grease', and the faded floral pattern of her blouse only supported that theory.

"I hope so," Sam flipped his badge with a well-practised motion. "I'm with the FBI, looking for Zoe Heart."

"Oh, my, she didn't do anything, did she? Sweetest girl I've ever met, she wouldn't harm a fly!"

"No, she hasn't done anything."

'Other than getting me all hard just thinking about her,' Sam's primal instinct added, a voice he quickly suffocated. "But a relative of hers, err, disappeared, and we, um, think she might be able to help."

Sam prayed she wasn't an only child with dead parents and no other family.

"Oh, my, how horrible!"

'Not more horrible than your voice, lady,' Sam put on a smile and demanded, with his best puppy dog look; "If you could just give me Zoe's student file, that would be great."

Twenty 'I hope her relative isn't hurt's and 'Poor Zoe's later, Sam finally managed to ditch the hysterical secretary and get down to work on his imaginary case. It certainly wasn't imaginary to him.

* * *

><p>"So, you and Zoe have Geology class together?" Sam wondered who the hell wanted to study rocks, but saved that question for another time. If he was lucky, he would get the answer out of Zoe as she lay in bed next to him after a passionate night of sex.<p>

Sam rather wouldn't know where that thought had come from.

"Uh-huh," Lola ran her tongue over her lips. That FBI agent could investigate her in depth any day, anytime, even here in the Chemistry lab. "So, agent, what do you want with our little wallflower Zoe?"

"She didn't strike me as a wallflower."

"Oh, so you met her?"

Sam cursed himself for letting that slip. "No, just from her file and picture, she doesn't strike me as one, you know?"

Lola nodded slowly. "Right. Well, she is. So, if it's fun and amusement you're after, she's the wrong address. I'm sure that whatever problem you've got, I can help you just as well." She straightened her back and pushed her – admittedly impressive – bust out.

Sam had no doubt she could help on _that_ account, but that utterly wasn't what he was after. Not with Lola, anyways. "Right, um, I'm sure you could." Where was Dean to take the promiscuous witnesses – or sources of information in this case, seeing as there was nothing to have been witnessed – from him when he needed it? "Anyways, back to Zoe. What's she like?"

"Look, I love the girl, everyone does. She's sweet, caring and helpful. Practically one of the saints she's preaching to."

Sam was pretty sure Lola meant 'praying' not 'preaching', but oh well. Apparently the IQ needed to get into college had been scaled down from the time he was at Stanford.

"But she's so prude it's not even funny anymore. She's gonna marry that bore Marc next month, just so she can finally get laid. I told her I don't know how many times she should screw, literally, her promise ring to hell, but she doesn't listen. Virginity is a virtue and all that crap." Lola cocked an eyebrow at Sam, "I'm a looser girl than that, you know, agent."

"I bet you are," Sam jotted some random notes onto his notepad just to look busy and not let that tigress across from him jump on him any more than she already was. "Are there any places Zoe likes to go regularly?"

"Try church. She should be there in the mornings, the afternoons, and oh, the evenings." Lola rolled her eyes, "Other than that; she works in a coffee shop when she's not working at Diver Farming."

"Which coffee shop?"

"The Starbucks down in Bemidji. It's not hard to find, we only got that one."

"No surprise there."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing," Sam shook his head. Lovely town Bemidji was. "So, er, thank you, Ms Kilmer, I think I got everything I need."

"Please, call me Lola."

Sam got up and darted for the exit before she could punch her number into his cell.

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><p><strong>Thank you so much for all your sweet feedback, and the alerts and favorites, I'm absolutely thrilled about how awesome you guys are! =D I promise there'll be some werewolf action soon. ;) <strong>

**xoxo**


	3. The Beast You Made Of Me

**I am a victim of your carnivorous lunar activities.  
><strong>_**Gerald Bringsley, An American Werewolf in London**_

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><p>Full moon was said to have magical qualities. Mythical.<p>

Some people can't sleep when the moon is at its fullest. Others believe it's the best time to get a new hairstyle. Yet another group, if smaller in number, believed it to give especial power to their rituals. Eventually, there were those that _turned_ on a full moon.

Zoe didn't belong to either group, but this month's full moon changed her life, anyhow.

4th March, it was a Friday – finally. It was high noon at the coffee shop, it seemed that people were so immune to caffeine that they could order double espressos at eight o'clock at night and still be capable of sleeping.

'Well, it's not like they are likely to head off to _sleep_,' Zoe thought piquedly, 'Getting wasted in some shady bars is more like it. Naturally, they would need coffee to stay away long enough to down their ten shots of whiskey.'

Twenty-eight days to go, then she'd be a married woman and would have better things to do than waste her time preparing over-priced coffee beverages on Friday nights; she would have a husband to cuddle up to on the couch. Go out for dinner.

Speaking of the devil, Zoe's phone chimed to announce a message received.

_Zoe, darling,_

_won't be able to call tonight, working late._

_See you tomorrow for lunch._

_I love you._

_Marc_

Zoe sighed and pressed 'reply' when her colleague Barnes barked: "Zoe, little help here!"

"Of course, sorry," She slipped her phone back into her pocket and would reply later. She typed her name into the register and smiled at the customer: "What can I-" Zoe had to interrupt herself. Something about this man shook her. Must be his gorgeous hazel eyes… or his muscle-packed body. Virgin or not, Zoe was still just a woman, it was basically _instinct_ to notice a hot man when he was in front of her. "-get you?" She finished weakly.

"Coffee black, please," His voice triggered something in her, and it wasn't a chastity vow.

"Coming right up," Zoe was glad for the excuse to turn her back on him, though she couldn't help but feel his eyes on her back, following her every movement with predatory accuracy and sharpness. _Hungry eyes_.

"Anything…else?" Zoe might be a shy person, but never had her voice quivered. Until now, anyways, now that she thought she must be choking from the dominating masculinity this guy sent out in waves that bordered on Tsunami extents.

"You could write your number on the cup."

"I suppose I could," Zoe replied as if in trance. "But why would you want that if you can just talk to me in person?"

"I'll take you up on that offer with _pleasure_." Zoe thought she must imagine him putting an emphasis on the last word. "When's your shift over?"

"Um, err, in… now." Zoe stuttered, "Just gotta, you know…" She fumbled awkwardly with her hands, motioning to the back. "Be right there."

Cheeks flushed with whatever it was - excitement, embarrassment, shame – Zoe stumbled into the backroom of the coffee shop and slipped off the ridiculous green apron. What was she doing here? Running towards some tall dark handsome stranger, that's what!

'I must be losing my mind,' Zoe's breath came ragged and irregular, but she couldn't stop herself from fixing her hair and marching back out.

Mr Stranger sat at the table by the window, leisurely watching people pass by outside, holding umbrellas over them to shield them from the stormy rain battering down on them. Zoe knew she should just leave, but, cheesy as she knew it sounded, there was this invisible force pulling her towards him. Slowly, almost hesitatingly, she entered his field of vision and sat down across from him. Those hauntingly intense eyes fell on her, and Zoe wound herself as if he could see right down to her soul; as if he could see right through her shielding clothes.

Zoe jumped a little at that irrational thought. "So, you want to talk to me. Why? You don't even know me."

"Exactly. I'd like to change that."

"Okay, so you're apparently not lacking confidence," Zoe stated quietly. "Not that you have any reason to do otherwise…" She shook her head. "Well, you've got me at a disadvantage. I don't know who you are."

Sam wondered whether to tell her the FBI story and decided against it. "Sam."

"No last name?"

Sam chuckled and leaned forward on the table, revelling in the tensing of Zoe's muscles at the proximity. Her innocence was so palpable he could almost taste it; it wasn't staged, it was legit and intriguing. "Winchester, if that helps you any."

"Not really, seeing as it still doesn't tell me what you want from me." Zoe swallowed the lump in her throat. It wasn't hard to figure out this man wasn't volunteering at the church or did otherwise entertain any upstanding occupations. Underneath his pleasant smile there was something so roguish about him, Zoe thought she must suffocate from it. However, she kept breathing in that poisonous fume as if it were a drug she was hooked on.

"You could let me take you home."

Zoe huffed. "Look, I may be from the countryside, and I may be considered naïve, but I'm not stupid. And I'm not easy." She raised her left hand. "Besides, I'm engaged."

Sam smiled wolfishly, no pun intended, and pleasantly said: "I know, Zoe. But I don't see your fiancée around to take you home in the pouring rain."

"How do you know my name?" Zoe's eyes narrowed.

"It's on your name tag," Sam pointed to said tag Zoe still wore on her polka-dotted blouse.

Blushing madly, Zoe rather tore than took it off. "Whatever. So maybe my fiancée isn't here, but who says I don't have a car on my own?"

"Well, do you?"

Rarely anything ever annoyed Zoe; this man's dominance and utter confidence in himself did. "No," Zoe unwillingly admitted.

Sam sighed and in that deceivingly gentle voice said: "Zoe, I'd never hurt you. And I'm not angling for a one-night stand here, either."

Zoe flinched from the mere mention of it, and made Sam think that persuading her might be harder than he initially believed. He just hoped his werewolf instincts wouldn't take over before he had wooed her as far as it being at least consensual when he'd savage her like the beast he was.

"Then why?" Zoe's voice revealed an uncomfortable amount of the fear she felt but didn't want to show.

"You've got something about you, Zo."

Nobody had the right to call her by that affectionate nickname but her friends and fiancée; but Zoe found she revelled in the sound of it from Sam's lips. That indeterminable attraction – well, not quite so indeterminable. Sam must be the most handsome man she'd ever seen – was also the reason why she didn't question his mysterious remark.

"Okay," She breathed.

Sam wondered if Zoe's lips tasted as good as her scent smelled. It was all he could do not to lunge across the table and find out on the spot. He rose and held out his hand to her, which she found herself taking.

Luckily for her, the coffee shop was too crowded as that anyone saw her leaving with the handsome stranger to his car.

"You're nervous," Sam stated as he opened the door for her. Her white neck was so close… radiating that damned honey trap of a scent.

"Wouldn't you be if you were me?" She simply asked. "If you didn't have that certain vibe of trustworthiness about you, Sam, I would have long since taken off running into the opposite direction."

'And I still should,' Zoe thought to herself.

"That so."

"Yes. Or I wouldn't have said so."

"People lie all the time," He should know, he was an expert.

"I don't." Zoe said with a conviction so enticingly innocent, Sam tightened his grip on the steering wheel to keep his hands off of her. The further the evening progressed, the more he felt he was turning from himself into his wolf self. He knew he should get as far away from Zoe as possible, but his instincts wouldn't allow him that – they screamed at him to just mark this girl as his.

_Impregnate her_.

Sam very nearly slammed the breaks at that beastly thought that had found its way into his consciousness. A glance up at the evening sky losing colour told him the full moon was on the rise. It wasn't long before it would reach its peak… he had to be away from Zoe by then.

"So, whereto?" Sam asked casually when his heart rate had receded to a human speed again.

Zoe gave her home address before she could stop herself to think that giving this stranger her college address might have been the smarter way to go. But no, she led him right to her own little apartment that she kept for retreat purposes; it was her safe haven of independence that she would only sell once she was married.

Married. Marc. She'd completely forgotten about answering his message. She'd do it right away…once she was alone again. "So, Sam, is this what you usually do, pick up damsels in distress and chauffeur them home?"

"Not usually, no. As I said; you've got a special something about you."

"Right. That something is generally called a promise ring." Zoe huffed.

"You think I'm mocking you."

"You wouldn't be the first."

Sam took a deep breath, tasting that insecurity and vulnerability and letting it dissolve on his tongue like a four-star menu. It was what Zoe was to him, technically. Only that he didn't want to kill her, but turn her…into his mate. "Well, I'm not. Mocking you. In fact I think it's admirable you stick to your principles."

Zoe arched her eyebrow sceptically, but Sam's face remained perfectly straight and solemn. "It's self-protection, really."

"How so?" Whoever gave that man beside her the wild, hungry look of a vagabond and the voice of a trustworthy priest should be condemned for deception.

"God knows why I'm telling you this, but…" Zoe wished she could shut up but found it impossible. "It's easier to hide behind your faith than admit you're scared."

Sam didn't reply, just let those cursed hazel eyes wander over her and made her feel as if she were stripped down to her very soul in front of him. Though entertaining no false hopes that he wasn't as dangerous as he radiated to be, Zoe sucked in his presence like one who'd wandered the Sahara for days would drown water.

"All I have to say when people ask me why I'm such a prude is that I'm waiting for marriage, that my faith doesn't allow lechery and such, you know? I don't have to stand there and say I'm freaking terrified of…" Zoe's prude lips stumbled over the words: "Being… intimate with someone."

Sam's humanity made an honourable effort at keeping the images of Zoe's naked body pinned underneath his as he rammed into her out, but was only half-way successful. "Nothing wrong with that," Sam forced himself to say, knowing it was what he would say on any day that wasn't a full moon. The only reason he got it across his lips tonight was because he knew it was what would make Zoe feel safe and comfortable.

Zoe's prided knowledge of people and their true intentions failed miserably this night. She leaned back, relaxed, and figured she had nothing to fear. She'd always been taught to never make judgements and to always believe in the best of people. Sam might be more than an intimidating, but in the end, it seemed, he was by far the kindest man she'd met in a long time.

"So your fiancée… how long have you known him?"

Usually happy about any opportunity to talk about Marc, Zoe now clasped her hands together in her lap and fumbled for the right words. She knew she was betraying Marc in a way, letting this handsome stranger take her home… It was wrong. "I've known him for two years, but we only started dating one year ago."

_Damn, that man has patience_. It shot through Sam's mind. He wouldn't resist that walking temptation next to him longer than one night. This night.

"When's the wedding?"

"Next month. I would have preferred a summer wedding, but…"

"He didn't want to wait that long," Sam finished rather un-empathetically. Not like he blamed the guy.

_Too bad he'd be the one to pluck Zoe's virtue, not Marc_.

"No," Zoe admitted weakly.

"I'm sure you're worth the wait."

Zoe flinched and pressed herself deeper into the car seat.

"I meant that character-wise, Zo." Sam soothed, his rising werewolf consciousness rubbing its hands demonically at the prospect of spoiling this innocent piece of meat.

"Oh, right." The girl beside him relaxed again. "So, Sam, err, thanks for driving me home…Would you… um, like to come upstairs for a beer maybe?"

'Zoe Heart, what the fuck are you doing?' It wasn't often that Zoe cussed, she could actually count off the occasions on one hand, but she released a tirade at herself in her mind worthy of a sailor. "It's just that, I, well, really… it's nice talking to you. If you don't have any other stuff to do, I mean-"

If Sam followed her up, the girl's fate would be sealed, that much, the moral part of his brain knew for sure. Too bad it was outweighed by the werewolf bursting out in him, kicking down morality's and decency's door with un-withheld force. Slowly a dangerous smile stretched over his face and Sam pulled the key out of the ignition. "I would love to, Zo."

The girl smiled sweetly, never knowing what monster she'd invited in to tear her life to shreds. "Great."

* * *

><p>"You don't drink, I take it?" Sam nudged towards the glass of cranberry juice Zoe was pouring herself after she'd handed Sam a beer.<p>

"No. I know, perfectly fits the stereotype of church girl."

"You don't need to defend yourself, Zoe."

"It's what I've been doing most of my life… when little girls go to church regularly, it's cute, but when they turn sixteen, they're pegged off as prudes."

"At least you won't have to be carried out of bars into the ER. Your liver has a longer life expectancy and you don't have to worry about what you'll do while you're out of control."

Zoe smiled shyly. "Not many people see it that way."

_I don't, either, but I'll say anything to reel you in._ Sam smiled harmlessly at her and casually asked: "So how come you keep beer in the house?"

"My fiancée, he drinks one now again," Zoe shrugged uncomfortably.

Sam took a sip of the beer and revelled in the knowledge it wasn't the only thing of Marc's he'd get to taste tonight.

Zoe brushed her caramel curls behind her shoulders and looked at Sam with those damn innocent blue-green eyes that just screamed at him to turn them dark with lust and taint the pure soul lying behind them.

She brought up her legs underneath her on the couch, shutting her body off from him. His inner werewolf gave a displeased growl at that. "So, Sam, what are you doing besides barging into people's lives and have them spill out their innermost secrets to you?"

"Not much, really. It's a very time-consuming job."

"You ever thought of taking up an _honest_ occupation?"

"Not really, no."

Zoe chuckled and believed Sam's evading to be the circumscription of unemployment, so she decided to leave it at that. It's been a long time she last talked to someone whose eyes didn't hold that quiet – sometimes even outspoken – mocking reproach about her strong faith. Too bad Zoe didn't see the ravenous hunger that burned in Sam's eyes instead. Every fibre in his body itched to make Zoe his bitch, literally.

Technically, he still had two hours until midnight, when the full moon was its strongest, to get out of here; but the blunt truth was that he neither wanted nor could leave. Too strong was his desire for this woman.

_To breed with her_.

Their conversation was civil and pleasant until around eleven thirty.

Zoe wasn't aware of the time, or else she might have gotten suspicious why Sam, whom she thought to be respectable enough to honour her engagement and virtue, hadn't left yet. It being as it was, however, she still hadn't replied to Marc and had, to be honest, forgotten about it completely. "You want another one?"

"If _Marc_ doesn't wonder where all his beers went." Sam handed Zoe the empty beer bottle with a teasing, almost mocking raise of an eyebrow. He'd turned so far by now that he could faintly hear the blood rushing to her cheeks, feel the heat of her body and perceive her increased heartbeat. It was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard.

Zoe didn't respond, just turned her back on Sam, walked – tauntingly pranced was more like it to Sam – into the kitchen and soon returned with another beer bottle. Her fingertips brushed Sam's when she handed it to him, and it was the moment he snapped.

Zoe didn't even have time to let out a surprised cry when Sam pulled her down into his lap and crushed his lips on hers. Frozen in shock, she couldn't do anything but permit him to let his hands run all over her body and feel the suffocating strength of him.

"Sam…! Don't…" Zoe tore herself away and struggled in his arms, but they held her in an ironclad grip. He felt the fear spark in her, saw her eyes widen in horror, but he couldn't care. Just pressed her mouth down on his again – and then felt her lips tentatively melt against his. Grinning victoriously, he broke away to trace her collarbone with his tongue down to her voluptuous breasts. At this point it was not only pointless to claim he was to some degree human, but also would it be a lie. He was an animal. And the only thing on his mind was satisfying his insatiable hunger.

_Reproduce_. _Dominate and impregnate his female_. _Mark her as his_.

Zoe pushed Sam away, her heart almost giving out from the shock at having someone touch her that intimately. She tried getting up, but it all too soon became obvious Sam wasn't too keen on the idea of her leaving. "Not so fast, Zo."

"Sam, please…" She tried, though not with as much effort as she should have maybe put into it.

"Please what?" Zoe flinched from the feral hiss in Sam's voice, but she wasn't as scared as she thought she would be – that still left a considerable amount of terrifying fear, though.

"Don't hurt me," Zoe whispered weakly. "Just let me go."

"Can't do that, Zo." His hand slipped into her blouse demandingly. Zoe stifled a cry at the sound of fabric tearing and the sensation of cool air on her bare skin. "You're all mine."

Zoe covered – or tried to – her bareness that left her so vulnerable with her arms. "I'm no one's," She forced herself to protest, though she might as well have spared that effort, seeing as the effect was all the same.

"You might as well enjoy it, Zo." Sam unhooked her bra and tossed it to the floor impatiently. He growled contently at the sight of Zoe's luscious white breasts, round and perfect.

_Perfect for nursing his cubs_.

Sam tugged Zoe's impeding hands away and closed his lips around her nipple, making her utter a lovely mix of a moan and cry of indignation and fear. He teased her sensitive spot with his tongue, feeling it grow rock-hard and hearing her heart beat pick up pace.

Zoe meanwhile found herself incapable of movement or even verbal protest. She had paid enough attention in Biology class to know what the definite bulge in Sam's pants that pressed against her thigh meant, and it released a paralyzing flood of fear and intrigue in her. _Lust_.

Not knowing what was riding her, her fingertips travelled tremblingly over Sam's crotch. Seconds later she wished she hadn't. It happened too fast for her to realize, but next thing she knew, her back was on the coffee table and Sam hovered over her tugging her jeans down her legs with unbound ferocity.

Zoe was acutely aware of her practically-nakedness and shivered from discomfort and fear. "Sam…"

"_Don't fight it." _

Zoe found herself nodding. Her hands travelled to Sam's face and traced the well-defined edges of his jaw, and Zoe should be glad that only the moonlight illuminated the room, for the animalistic slits Sam's eyes had become would have made her cry in fear.

Still shaky, she unbuttoned Sam's shirt, but only got to the third button before he tore it off of him. He didn't know why she would bother with his upper body when all that mattered was further down on his anatomy. Fine, if it helped her overcome her girlish inhibitions, he'd comply with her, to some degree.

Sam violated her lips with his again, roughly grabbed her hips and pulled her towards him. Zoe whimpered from the brutish force, but found herself clasping her arms behind Sam's neck and kissing him back anyhow. She perceived all too clearly how Sam unbuckled his belt and impatiently pushed his jeans and boxers down, leaving him completely naked.

Cursing herself for her lecherous curiosity, Zoe stroked Sam's impressive, muscular chest and moved her hand down to his hard erection. "My God!" It slipped out of her before she could stop herself.

Sub-consciously she arched her hips backwards, trying to wiggle away despite knowing it was utterly useless. "Sam, please, don't. You're going to rip me apart!"

He chuckled raucously against her neck. "I could, but I won't. You've got nothing to fear, Zo."

"Other than you tearing me apart, you mean?" Zoe cried, "You… You're too large, Sam. It won't fit, it'll…"

A feral snarl, and Zoe's panties came off, leaving her naked and presented in all her natural beauty. Sam wished she'd stop fussing, but then again, found her ridiculous protests entertaining. _Thrill of the chase_.

Zoe was torn somewhere between shame and devouring passion for this presumptuous stranger who took liberties with her she wouldn't have granted Marc even on their wedding night.

"If you'd just relax, this won't hurt."

Naturally, that only made Zoe tense even further. She dug her nails into Sam's back, pressed her legs together and squirmed underneath him. Werewolf set on mating that he was, Sam wasn't all too amused and crudely grabbed her arms to pin them down, wedging his knee between her legs to wrench them apart.

"Wait, Sam, just…" Zoe whimpered helplessly, "Bed, please?"

Rolling his wolfish eyes, Sam swept Zoe up into his arms unceremoniously and carried her into the adjoining bedroom, where he had to control himself in so far as not to toss her onto the bed but put her down with some degree of gentleness.

Zoe's breathing came ragged, her muscles hurt from the fraught wire tension they were under and she shivered although burning up inside.

The change of location had temporarily caused Zoe's fortress to crumble, and Sam used the given opportunity to claw his fingers into the soft insides of Zoe's thigh and push her legs apart ferociously. His patience had utterly and completely reached its end.

_He needed to pound into her right now or he'd end up killing her._

Zoe jumped a little when she felt Sam's hand on her clit, but wasn't as humiliated by his intimate touch as she should be. On the contrary, she felt unknown lust spark in her and loosening her up. "Oh, God."

"Not so much, babe." Feeling she was all wet and ready for him, Sam pinned her arms down beside her, knowing she'd buck when he'd break her virgin wall.

Zoe's body acted on its own accord when she arched her back, pushing her hips towards Sam, and brushed his cock with her pulsing wet pussy. "Do it," She begged. "Fuck me."

Sam growled in content at finally having his female ready. "It might hurt," He warned for humanity's sake.

Zoe shook her head, mistaking his words for sympathy and worry and not taking them for the empty phrase they really were. "It's okay. Hurt me."

And he did. Sam rammed into her mercilessly with one impetuous thrust, not stopping at the resistance of her hymen and not caring at the cry of pain Zoe gave when he shredded it. Tears formed in her eyes at the sharp, numbing pain that seemed to paralyze her whole body and only got worse with every brute shove that followed.

Zoe forced herself to relax, but that was easier said than done with a 6'4 beast banging her senseless. Until Sam hit a spot inside of her that made her cry out from sudden overwhelming pleasure.

Sensing the change in her, Sam let go of her arms. She used her new liberty to hold onto Sam's broad shoulders in the futile attempt of finding leverage against the impetuosity of his attacks.

Sam instead of pinning her down manhandled her hips, holding them firmly as he drove himself into her tight pussy.

"Nnng, Sam," Zoe moaned, hating herself for the pleasure she felt and hating him for doing this to her. "Oh, God," It struck her as blasphemy to cry out the name of the Lord in a moment of such awful lecherousness and sin, but she couldn't care.

Sam tasted the innocent inexperience on her lips as he kissed her devouringly, but he found it intoxicating. Moreover, he knew now why it had to be Zoe; she was in heat.

_Just waiting to conceive his werewolf seed. _

"Oh, fuck, Sam, I'm…" Zoe tried to suppress that sinful pleasure welling up inside of her like a heat wave, but with every increasingly fervent thrust of Sam's cock into her, it grew stronger. Before she knew it, Zoe rode through her first man-made orgasm – or rather beast-made. It left her a weak bundle of nerves, exhausted and beat, in the arms and at the mercy of her beastly mate.

Zoe's wall clenching around him pushed Sam over the edge. He came inside of her, draining his seed into her.

_Perks of naïve virgins. They don't ask for protection_.

Sam gave Zoe a relatively tame kiss for appearance's sake and then rolled off of her to let her catch her breath. She'd need it soon enough, for he wasn't done for tonight. Full moon might be on the decline, but it was still shining strong, and he felt the werewolf rioting in him, demanding the satisfaction of its needs.

Zoe shivered and in a brief clear moment wondered if she could ever live with what she'd done tonight. What she had let happen. She wasn't given much time to ponder about it, as Sam was already on top of her again. "Just let me rest for a little while…"

"We can rest when we're dead."


	4. Broken Faith

**Thank you all sooo much for your amazing support, you guys are the best! =) I'm sorry for updates coming rather slow, I'm neck-deep in preparations for A-levels, but I'm doing my best to keep them coming! =) **

**xoxo**

* * *

><p><strong>[mate]<strong>

–_**noun **_

**1. **husband or wife; spouse.

**2. **one member of a pair of mated animals.

3**. **a counterpart.

–_**verb (used with object) **_

**4. **to join as a mate or as mates.

**5. **to bring (animals) together for breeding purposes.

**6. **to match or marry.

–_**verb (used without object) **_

**7. **(of animals) to copulate.

**8. **(of animals) to pair for the purpose of breeding.

**9. **to marry.

**10. **_Archaic _. to consort; keep company.

* * *

><p>"Why me?" Zoe was surprised she still had the strength left in her to speak.<p>

_Because you are my bitch, and in heat. _

"It just has to be you," Sam replied.

Zoe took that for an answer. A part of her knew that what had happened this night wasn't natural, that there had been something involved that she wasn't able to grasp and that could be explained with neither religion nor simple lust.

The moon's light started to fade and be replaced by the first rays of morning sun when Zoe was finally granted sleep. She pulled the covers tight around her violated, battered body and curled up to the very man who'd taken her virtue and given her sinful luxuriant pleasure all night.

Sam watched her fall asleep, her hazel hair falling around her head like a tainted halo. He listened to her heart beat calm down before he, too, drifted off to sleep.

Zoe didn't awake until late morning. A glance, sight hazy from sleep, told her it was 10:53 a.m.

'Thank Heavens it's Saturday…' Zoe was about to turn around and catch some more sleep when she felt the hammering ache in her lower abdomen, as if she'd… been fucked by a wild animal.

In the merciless light of day, Zoe realized just what she'd done. Crudely awakened by memories of her sinful night of lust, Zoe sat up abruptly and found she was indeed not alone in bed. Sam's arm was lazily draped around her waist and his peaceful face revealed nothing of the beast he'd been at night.

_God. Marc_.

Sam awoke from the restlessness beside him, and gazed up at Zoe as she ran a hand through her toffee hair despairingly. Sunlight had returned some of his humanity, and he felt regret and guilt at what he'd done to this sweet girl yesterday night. "Zo?"

"Yeah," She said quietly, but without reproach or hate, as he noticed with some surprise.

"You okay?"

"Well, on one hand, I feel awful for…cheating on my fiancée and betraying my faith, not to mention some physical ache due to your, eh, well, _imposing_ qualities, and on the other hand, I feel wonderful and more than satisfied and pleased."

Sam smirked up at her. "Good."

"Which part exactly?" Zoe frowned. If guilt could kill, she'd be dead as a rock right now. Violently she shook her head, "I… oh crap."

"What?" Sam caressed her back, and his touch felt gentle, unlike last night. Zoe found herself arching her back, caving into his touch and falling right back into the sheets beside him. "I've got two hours to get ready and put on a decent poker face before I meet Marc for lunch, and prepare a huge I'm so sorry speech-"

Sam let his hand wander over Zoe's stomach, drawing little circles on it. "Zo. What exactly will it gain you if you tell Marc what happened?"

"How about a clear conscience?"

"And a nasty argument."

Zoe bit her lip. "But I can't lie to him about something like that! I can't lie on principle, about anything! And Marc's not stupid, he'll know exactly I'm hiding something!" Zoe already saw herself calling off the wedding, but in her heart she knew she couldn't do that. She loved Marc, she would marry him.

"Zoe… I'm sorry for…"

Zoe narrowed her eyes at this new tone from Sam, and just when she thought she could be mad at him, he busted out the sympathetic streak. Wasn't that just her luck.

"Look, I'll be gone, but Marc is the one who will stay. Are you really willing to let one night mess up your whole life?"

Zoe averted her eyes. "I just… it doesn't feel right to marry him when I'm not…"

"A virgin?" Sam finished. "Hardly anyone is these days. Marc marries you for yourself, not your faith, so I'm sure he won't mind that tiny clause being scratched." He felt like he had to make amends for robbing Zoe of her virginity, so he pushed her into the arms of her fiancée... and he vowed to leave Zoe right away, to never come back and not disturb her life any more than he already had.

_What if she was pregnant with his offspring? _

Sam forced himself not to think about that now, to let his morals take over the reins again and kick the werewolf into the back row where it's supposed to belong.

Zoe smiled, having found some solid ground again and no longer freaking out like a witch before the inquisition. "Okay. Would you care to have a late breakfast with me?"

Zoe made a mental note to get herself checked for bipolar disorder. One minute, she wanted nothing but to flee the building like it was on fire, away from Sam, and the next, she couldn't imagine seeing him leave.

No, really, that sounded healthily balanced.

"Should I ask what exactly happened here last night or not?" Zoe was surprised she found the courage to bring up that sensitive topic.

"You might not like the answer," Sam replied grimly. He was aware he'd had God knew how many one-night stands during his soulless year, and that being wolfed was hardly any different in its essence than lacking a soul; but never had he hurt such a sweet, innocent girl and endangered her life in sleeping with her. Now that his mind cleared again, he knew he might as well have killed her last night… or at the very least turned her.

"Coffee black?" Zoe found herself agreeing to Sam's answer, and it sent tingling shivers down her spine.

"Yes, please. Need any help?"

Zoe turned her head to Sam in surprise. Gallantry was the last thing she expected from him. "No, thanks, I've got it. So, um, Sam, how… I mean, what next?"

"I'll leave and never bother you again."

"First of all, you didn't _bother_ me. And second…" _Zoe Heart, shut the hell up_, "… I mean, I could stay at the campus for a couple of nights and you could, you know, stay here until you've figured it all out. Where you're going next and all."

Werewolf Sam smiled devilishly. _His female has completely fallen prey to him, knowingly or not._

Moral Sam said: "No, Zo, I couldn't possibly ask that of you…"

"You didn't ask," She smiled sweetly, "I offered."

"Can your conscience come to terms with that?"

"Well, I'll be staying at the campus with my roommate, so it's not like I'd, well, you know. I won't say 'repeat mistakes' because I didn't see, or rather feel, it as one, or three, or however often it was. So, um, you're welcome to stay until you know where you're headed next."

* * *

><p>Zoe arrived ten minutes late, which she blamed on traffic and not on losing track of time as she sat over breakfast with Sam. "Hey, Marc, I'm so sorry for running late-"<p>

"It's okay, sweetheart, it's only ten minutes. I'd wait longer than that for you."

Zoe thought she must choke from the kindness and trust blinking from his brown eyes and remembered just in time to smile sweetly and say: "I wouldn't want you to wait on my account."

"Ain't I already?" Marc asked with a grin and waved for the waiter.

Zoe nearly bit her tongue off. 'You're waiting in vain, Marc, I threw away everything to a guy I met just last night… and who happens to still be in my apartment.'

"So, darling, what are your plans for today?"

"Well, I gotta talk to the florist for the wedding," Zoe started, "Then I'm going to afternoon mass, and head back to the college to cram for the exams on Tuesday. What are you going to do?"

"I suppose I'll see you at mass, and after that I'll be off to work."

"On a Saturday?"

Marc smiled warmly. "Bills don't pay themselves, darling. How's your mother, by the way?"

"Oh, lots better, thanks. Doctors said she'll be up and around in a couple of days, her twisted ankle's healing well and the pneumonia is as good as gone."

"Our prayers have been heard then."

Zoe gulped down the lump in her throat, not able to bear the thought of God's all seeing eyes on her, and hearing everything... "Yes, indeed." She pressed a hand to her still aching lower abdomen and wondered if she would ever be able to look Marc and God in the eye. Not to mention her mirror image.

* * *

><p>Zoe showed up half an hour early for 5 p.m. mass and darted right off to the confessional. "I've come to confess."<p>

"God forgives those who confess. What is it that you have done, child?"

Zoe almost sobbed. "I've lied, betrayed the ones I love and… I lusted." So much for talking something off your shoulders making you feel better; if anything, speaking it out loud made her feel about a thousand and three times worse.

"Do you regret your sins?"

"Yes, father, I do. With all my heart. I wish I could turn it all back."

"Well, well, calm down. We aren't perfect, but God loves us with all our mistakes. God will forgive you, child. You're granted salvation. Do not to let it happen again."

"I won't, not ever. Thank you, father," Zoe choked and fled into the nave before anyone could witness her coming from confession.

She sank to her knees and fell into prayer until the church filled and mass began. Even then she did not stop her silent pleas to God to forgive her her missteps.

"Zoe, are you okay?" Marc sat down beside her, and naturally, his presence led to Zoe feeling anything but okay.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I just want to thank Him for helping Mom through this difficult time."

Congratulations, Zoe, you just earned yourself right another confession.

* * *

><p>'I should leave,' It occurred to Sam, not for the first time, though it lacked enthusiasm as much as the previous times it had shot through his mind. The sheets on the bed still smelled of Zoe, of her intoxicating, intriguing scent that made possessiveness well up in him with such fervour it washed him clean of any approaches of humanity.<p>

Night fell outside, and with the moon on the rise, Sam's lust was, too. There was no point denying he was wolfing out, and though it had seemed like a good idea that Zoe hadn't told him where on campus she was staying, it would ultimately not make a difference. He would find her anywhere.

He should have asked her to tie him down before she left, and only come back after the hazardous days around full moon were over… Along with his hunger for Zoe, Sam felt a different, more lethal kind of hunger arise: Hearts. Bloody murder was on his mind as much as reproducing.

The key turned in the lock. Sam whirled around to see Zoe stand there, helpless as well as determined.

"Zo. You shouldn't have come back." Sam hissed, glad the dim light was enough to hide his transformed features.

"I know," She breathed. "But I had to. I sat in church, I listened to the sermon, I was surrounded by people praying to God all around me, I heard the priest preach morals, everything that I believe in… and all I could think about was being back here, with you."

Sam slammed the door shut and roughly pushed Zoe against it, snarling: "You have no idea what it means being with me."

"I know I don't. I'd be lying if I said I chose to come here despite that, because it wasn't rational decision-making leading me back here to you… I just knew, I _felt_ that I couldn't be without you tonight."

Sam made no, or if, only little, attempt of hiding his ferocious strength and ravenous hunger. Zoe had known every step of the way here that she was making a horrible mistake, again, but she hadn't stopped. The price she would have to pay were more bruises, adding to the complex pattern of blue, green, purple and yellow spots scattered all over her; arms, hips, thighs. Thankfully no place where they'd be visible to anyone else but herself.

"Fuck, you're hot," Sam growled, and only he knew that he wasn't referring to Zoe's looks but rather her state of fertility.

Zoe tossed her bag into the corner and used what little space Sam gave her to open one button after the other on her blouse. Her eyes stayed transfixed on Sam's face, waiting for any kind of reaction… and suppressed a cry when his eyes turned animalish – well, she thought to have seen it, must be a trick of light.

Breathlessly, mercifully not knowing what exactly she was doing here or why, Zoe slipped the sleeves off her shoulders. Detaching her back from the door, she pressed her breasts against Sam's chest and unsnapped her bra, letting it take the same exit as her shirt.

Had Sam been given the super-strength of vampires, he'd have snapped the door to pieces with his iron grip on it, trying not to grab Zoe and slam her to the ground humping her raw. His hunger for hearts disappeared, leaving one thing on his mind only: _Mate with Zoe_.

His female stripped out of her jeans, her body shaking adoringly with apprehension and embarrassment at being naked in front of him as well as her own forwardness. Damn those perfect round breasts, that spotless white skin…

Sam growled ferally, crushed Zoe back against the door and sprang his rock-hard cock free of the obstructing jeans. Zoe clung to his shoulders for support, whimpered when he forced her legs apart: "Wait, Sam, please. Not up against the-"

Zoe wondered where the gentle man she'd talked to at breakfast this morning had gone to as Sam bruisingly dug his fingers into her thigh, putting her leg around his waist as to have easier access to her wet entrance. Damn herself for being aroused by this…beast.

The buttons of Sam's shirt rubbed painfully against her naked skin as he pounded into her harshly, utterly ignoring her pleas to go easier on her, to just take her to the bed… and much like yesterday night, Zoe's protests only lasted up to the point when pleasure took hold.

She wrapped her other leg around his waist, drawing him deeper into her. The friction caused by naked skin against cloth aroused her about nearly as much as skin on skin. Realizing she didn't have to worry about support – Sam's well-flexed muscles assured her he took care of that for her – Zoe dared to let her hands wander. She raked her nails down Sam's smooth back, pulling further down to her, moaning when his tongue found hers.

"Ah!" Zoe cried when her back slammed the wall especially hard, but the pain was drowned by that sweet pleasure approaching. "Sam, I'm… so close. Fuck." Zoe was beyond the point of bothering about cursing, "_Harder_."

"Careful you don't regret that," Sam just growled, and complied readily. Even without her encouragement he'd have roughened his thrusts, driven to the point of complete insanity – or rather wolfishness – by _her fucking alluring scent and that goddamned luscious body_. Sam refrained from biting her neck in the last second as he came inside of her, pumping his tainted seed into her.

Zoe threw her head back as her muscles clenched uncontrollably and with the last aftershocks of her orgasm, guilt returned.

She was the one who had started it this time.

Following the rough fuck up against the door, Zoe could finally persuade Sam to have the next round in bed. Her body was in no constitution to do anything but lie down, and it made her almost glad to be banged by an obvious Alpha male, seeing as it didn't ask for much participation of the active kind of her.


	5. Tears On Your Wedding Dress

**I came here to be at one with nature, well I got what I wanted. Now I have to live with it.  
><strong>_**Megan, Dog Soldiers**_

* * *

><p>Full moon had been two nights ago now, which meant the werewolf influence ceased ever more… inconveniently leaving Sam with a conscience again. Annoying little nuisances.<p>

Zoe was still asleep beside him, dark shadows underneath her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Zo… I should have warned you, should have told you the truth about what I am," Sam twirled a strand of her hair around his finger. It smelled of cinnamon, no, caramel… His werewolf sense of smell was already ceasing.

Humanity wasn't in danger of him, at least, not for another month… Him finding Zoe had prevented man slaughter, as he'd taken all his werewolf hunger out on her.

If he had just one more gram of decency in his bones, he'd take his gun and put a silver bullet through his heart before he'd hurt anybody else. Destroying this young girl's life was bad enough.

_Not so fast. He had to be around. Had to be there for his cubs as they grew up._

Sam pushed those thoughts away with acid self-loathing. He had to tell Zoe, warn her that she might be pregnant…

_And cause a riot? No, thanks. Wait and see_ _before_ _making things unnecessarily complicated. _

Werewolf Sam won that one.

Carefully, Sam got up and pulled his jeans on before sneaking out of the bedroom. After he'd made sure Zoe was indeed as fast asleep as a Geology student during class, he dialled Dean's number.

"Sam! What the hell, man? You haven't called in days!"

"I'm sorry, Dean, really. I just got a little side-tracked."

"Well, she better be freaking worth it, 'cause I totally lost my mind here!"

"I can hear that, Dean."

"This is so not funny."

"You freaking out like teenage girls when they see Robert Pattinson? Yeah, I'd say that's worth a laugh."

"Shut up, bitch."

"Call you later, jerk." Sam chuckled and hung up, glad his brother wasn't suspicious. Naturally, Dean would blame it on a girl, and he wasn't wrong. Not really… though he might as well have blamed Sam's delay in calling on a werewolf case. It would have been equally correct.

Zoe turned around in her sleep, a content look on her face as she pressed her cheek into the pillow where Sam had just lain.

Normally, Sam was all for fighting instead of running; but he figured this time called for an exception. He couldn't be around any longer, he'd destroyed enough as it was.

* * *

><p>Zoe woke up to an empty bed. Not like that was any different to the way her life had proceeded so far, yet it left her feeling… <em>alone<em>, underneath that relief about now maybe being finally safe from Sam and his toxic as well as intoxicating influence.

Yet, when she dragged her aching body into a vertical position and found Sam was indeed gone and left a note on the kitchen counter in his stead, Zoe felt _disappointed_.

_Zoe, _

_I'm sorry. I wish I could explain what happened, but I won't disturb your life any more than I already did. _

_I wish Marc and you all the happiness of the world. _

_Sam_

"I think I would have preferred a disturbing explanation to an ominous evasion, Sam," Zoe sighed not without longing.

No phone number, no address, nothing. Sam had left absolutely _nothing_ behind other than a girl with a conscience so heavy with guilt it was a miracle she was capable of standing up.

'If only men had the same sense of loyalty dogs have…'

* * *

><p>"You seem distant, Zo."<p>

"I'm sitting right next to you, how can I be distant?"

Katie looked at her as if she'd grown fangs. "Did you just make a witty remark?"

"No, that was a limerick."

"Again!" Katie screeched. "Who are you and what have you done with our Zoe?"

"Katie, would you leave it alone?" Zoe snapped, then, shocked at herself, added: "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. Just, err, didn't sleep well last night."

"You might sleep better with some company," Lola waggled her eyebrows. Luckily, she had the social IQ of a walnut, so she didn't catch Zoe's shocked face, her insides churning.

"Yeah, um, I bet I would," Zoe replied weakly.

_Sam's hands on her hips, her breasts. His hot breath on her neck, her crying out his name as he was deep inside her…_

"Zoe!"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"What's up with you today? I mean, I get that you don't pay attention to Prof Tanner's lecture, but to us?" Three frowning faces looked at her expectantly and worried across the lunch table.

"I'm just not feeling well today, okay?" Zoe explained in a reconciling tone. "I think I'm heading back to my room. See you guys later."

* * *

><p>Zoe threw herself onto the bed and looked up at the blank ceiling.<p>

Same time, different state, Sam interviewed a witness who saw a ghost take his sister. Later he would do some research and at night, he and Dean would dig up the body responsible, salt and burn it, and move on to the next case.

Zoe wasn't so lucky as to be granted a lifestyle that allowed her to push things from her mind; bluntly said: her life was too boring as that it offered distraction.

So here she lay, replaying her nights with Sam over and over in her mind, and when she'd reached the eleventh time of doing so, an unpleasant thought kicked in with merciless ferocity: They hadn't used protection.

Zoe looked down to her belly as if it were an alien, not part of her body anymore. '_What if I'm pregnant?_'

Surprisingly, a small region of her brain remained completely calm_; Don't panic. If you're pregnant, peg it off as Marc's and claim it an early birth_.

Zoe shook her head, knowing she could never lie to Marc about a child. Keeping passionate nights with a mysterious lover from him, yes, but not _that_.

Leaving but one option: Pray she wasn't pregnant and curse herself for having been so horribly reckless.

* * *

><p>Sam's thumb lingered over the 'call' button.<p>

'You dropped out of her life, now leave it at that,' He reprimanded himself and quickly put his phone away before he could do something stupid; such as call Zoe. Two weeks it's been that he'd turned all werewolf on his mate – on Zoe – and now that it was _new_ moon, he was as human as never before and wanted to make sure she was alright.

By 'alright' he above all meant 'not pregnant'.

"Sam? You okay?"

"Fine."

"Right," Dean's tone clearly indicated he thought Sam's answer to be about as honest as Clinton's 'I did not have sex with that woman' speech. "Look, Sam, something's been going on with you lately. Care to tell me what it is?"

Sam sighed. "It's just… I had my soul put back into me, after walking around soulless for a more than a year, and there's only this wall between me and a padded room. Just trying to deal, that's all. I'm _not_ scratching."

"Okay," Dean nodded slowly. No way was that the only thing going on with his little brother.

* * *

><p>"So, you're not as disinclined to sex anymore, huh?" Lola asked innocently, giving Zoe a heat rush that she hoped to be able to blame on the suffocating stuffiness in the changing rooms.<p>

"What… what do you mean?" Zoe had difficulty keeping her voice steady as she popped her head out of the cubicle to look at her friend.

Lola nodded at Zoe. "Red lingerie? Pretty slutty."

Zoe gave an inward sigh of relief; if it was only _that_. "Well, it is my wedding night."

"And your _first time_," Lola winked.

"Right, that, too." Zoe disappeared back into the shielding safety of the changing room. She'd really earned herself a constant seat in the confessional. Maybe she'd even get a fancy nameplate.

"Excited to finally be a real woman?"

"Uh-huh. Major. Bet it's great."

"Well, sweetie, just so you're warned: it might hurt."

Zoe rolled her eyes. '_As if I don't know._'

"Yeah, Lola, you mentioned that before. Thanks for the warning, though, sure it'll come in handy."

"Is that sarcasm I hear dripping from your prude virgin lips?"

"No, that's already bordering on cynicism," Zoe replied casually as she realized with some relief that most of her bruises had disappeared. It might have ruined her wedding night having to explain how she'd gotten all shades of purple in rather intimate places. Explaining why the bruises on her arm perfectly matched a handprint wouldn't be too pleasant a business, either.

"Zoe, Zoe, I'm beginning to think that being a bride-to-be is good for you, after all. Finally losing that stick up your ass."

"Charming."

"Take it as the compliment it is."

Zoe was tempted to tell Lola about Sam just to see the look on her face at just _how_ loose Zoe had become, but decided it was definitely not worth it.

"Oh, Zo; talking about sexy asses, did that FBI guy find you?"

"Huh?" Zoe closed a red silk bra behind her back, covered in thin black lace. "What FBI guy?"

"Well, you know, the tall, sexy one. Muscle-packed, real handsome face and hot as hell. Said he was looking into one of your relatives disappearing or so, made some inquiries at uni about you."

'Steady, Zo, calm down. There are a lot of tall, sexy, muscular guys out there.' Zoe took a deep breath. "When, err, did he show up?"

"Like three weeks ago."

'Coincidence, coincidence…'

"Zo? You okay in there?"

"Fine," Zoe panted, "Um, could you get me this one a size bigger?"

"Sure," Lola took the bra Zoe held out her and disappeared, oblivious to her friend leaning against the mirror and trying to catch her breath.

'So, what, Sam's an undercover agent whose mission it is deflowering engaged women? Or a power-greedy guy with a dominance complex impersonating officials? But wouldn't he have told me he was FBI then?' Zoe's mind was racing at a speed that would have made Speedy Gonzalez look like a grandpa with a walking stick. 'Did he _seek me out_? If he did, what was all his talk about me 'having something about me' about?'

Zoe's inner debate was, above all things, futile. Sam was gone from her life and would stay gone; it hardly mattered whether he was FBI, NASA or Greenpeace.

Zoe would never see him again; and even if she did, there was nothing she'd have to say to him. Her heart belonged to Marc and that was it.

* * *

><p>Full moon approached, and with every night it came closer, Sam felt his hunger growing. Hunger for hearts, hunger for Zoe. He came close to asking Dean to tie him down, but seeing as that would mean a lengthy uncomfortable discussion about his new physiology and eating habits, Sam waved that possibility aside.<p>

He'd just maintain control; enough at least not to carjack the next best ride and drive up to Minnesota. There was only so much a werewolf bite could do to a person, right? Certainly it won't lead him to go all 'werewolf in heat' to the extent of driving through half the country to see a girl.

Sam just wouldn't lose it. He'd beat the _devil_; he surely would be able to keep control over this little werewolf issue… but he'd been so damn weak before.

* * *

><p>"Your Dad would have been so proud to see this day, Zoe." Faith Heart patted her daughter's cheek affectionately. Her little baby girl got married. After Zoe's older brother Andrew had chosen a life as a Catholic priest over having a family on his own, Zoe would be the one who'd give her grandchildren to spoil.<p>

"I know he would," Zoe smiled. Looking into her mother's aged, kind face, she wondered how she had ever been able to even consider blowing off the wedding. Even if it would have been the honest thing to do, she would have broken her Mom's heart. Faith loved Marc, just as Marc's parents loved Zoe.

Thinking about how she'd almost thrown all that love away for one – granted, two nights – night with a guy of whom she basically just knew the name wrenched her heart.

"You're the most beautiful bride anyone has ever seen, Zo," Faith said, kissed her daughter's cheek and left. "I'll leave you girls to it. I love you, Zoey darling."

Even Lola had to admit to a certain sense of longing for a wedding of her own upon the sight of Zoe; her pale complexion glowed with beauty and youth, her toffee hair had been curled and fell around her head like angels' locks and her blue eyes had never held a more intriguing shade of green than now that they were framed by skilfully drawn eye make-up.

"Do I sense sentimentality from you, Ms Unattached?" Katie teased and poked Lola's side.

"Never."

"Well, then I assume your eyes are just naturally tear-filled."

"That's just because every time I have to listen to your awful jokes I feel the need to cry."

Zoe laughed along with her friends before sending them away. "Girls, I need a moment alone, okay?"

"Sure thing, sweetie. Don't ruin your make-up with some tearful breakdown, though!" Jane warned as she trailed out the door. "And remember: We'll be ready in ten minutes, so be at the double-wing doors in fifteen the latest!"

"Yes, Jane, I know the schedule of my own wedding, thanks," Zoe shook her head, smilingly. Finally alone, she looked at herself in the mirror of the vanity table.

'Well, Vanity isn't the only sin I've committed…' Zoe sighed, 'No, don't think of Sam, not now.'

How was it that she wasn't able to forget him even after the whole month it's been?

Zoe twirled her engagement ring around her finger. Here she was; where she'd always wanted to be. Marrying Marc, starting a family with him… Goals in life couldn't just change within a month, could they?

Zoe leaned back in her chintz chair with a sigh. She looked out the window of the restyled carriage house of the church and watched the sun slowly descending to the horizon.

"You know you're not supposed to see the bride before the wedding-" Zoe started when she realized the hands on her shoulders definitely weren't Marc's. As if someone had poured a bucket of ice cubes down her shirt, Zoe jumped up and almost tripped on her dress as she whirled around. "Sam! What in God's name are you doing here?"

'Good question,' Sam thought helplessly. It wasn't even full moon yet, hell, it wasn't even the _night_ of full moon, but his werewolf instincts were as heightened as if it were midnight on full moon night. He had to experience the newly occurred out-of-habitness of monsters the hard way; _he lived it_. "Zoe…"

All the accusing questions, all the cold rebuffs Zoe had so meticulously prepared in her nightly self-conversations were swept from her mind like a virus eliminates a hard drive. "Why now?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper; despairing and pleading.

"I can't help it," That sadly was the truth, though not in a way Zoe might think. "I had to come see you…"

"You saw me. Now, please…" Zoe wanted to say 'leave' but the word never left her lips. Good thing she didn't have to say anything.

Sam stepped closer to her. Zoe's wedding dress rustled as he gathered it up to her waist, and unasked, her breath quickened as he pushed her against the vanity table. Brushes and make-up containers clonked to the floor, but all that Zoe heard was Sam's breath on her neck as he placed hot kisses on her skin.

"Sam, I'm getting married now, here… and not to you." Zoe gulped down the lump in her throat.

"Maybe," He growled, "If you'd said that with a little more enthusiasm and less regret, I would stop here."

"Just, please, Sam… I can't. Not anymore. Maybe, if you'd shown up last week, or even yesterday… but now it's too late."

He caressed her cheek deceivingly gently. "If you can honestly tell me you will be able to walk out that door right now, I won't keep you."

A silent tear ran over Zoe's face as she realized what she would inevitably do.

* * *

><p>"Where <em>the hell<em> is she?" Katie cursed.

"Please, not in a church," Jane reprimanded softly. "I'm sure she'll be right here, Zoe is always on time. Let's just do our bridesmaid walk down the aisle and she'll float in, perfect timing as always."

When the music started playing, it wasn't like they had any other option left, anyways.

* * *

><p>Zoe's back hit the mirror.<p>

The voluminous skirts of her wedding dress were heaped around her waist, her bare legs wrapped around Sam's hips and her tongue intertwined with his. "I want you so badly," She breathed and wasn't even remotely put out by the truth of it; it felt too natural for that.

"Bad is a very fitting cue word," Sam growled and was glad Zoe was too occupied with thinking about the thousand ways this was wrong as that she'd wonder what he _truly_ meant by that.

Just when her wedding march echoed through the church, Zoe dug her nails in Sam's back and let out a lustful cry as he thrust into her.

* * *

><p>Faith Heart turned her head, expecting to see her beautiful daughter sashay down the aisle to her awaiting husband-to-very-soon-be, but was faced with an empty doorway faintly illuminated by the fading light outside.<p>

Katie, Jane and Lola looked at each other frantically as the assembled family and friends began to whisper.

Marc exchanged a look with the priest, Zoe's brother Andrew, and both looked equally concerned.

* * *

><p>"Isn't a white dress hypocritical for you to wear, Zo?" Sam hissed as he buried a hand in Zoe's neat curls, disarranging them back to the usual loveable waves.<p>

Zoe locked her legs behind Sam's back, taking him deeper. The need to feel him almost consumed her; she wasn't even granted any free brain capacity to think about how she was fucking a man not her fiancée on the day of her wedding, right beside the church, in her wedding dress. "Yes," Zoe whimpered. "Very."

_Obedient female. Perfect_.

"But it wasn't like you left me with another choice."

_Not quite so obedient, apparently_. _Just as well._

"Indeed I didn't," Sam snarled and rammed into her especially hard, drawing a delicious cry from her lips, "Because you've decided to be my bitch."

Zoe knew those words were offensive, but she couldn't feel offended by them. "I know."

* * *

><p>When Zoe didn't show up for five minutes, Katie decisively stood up and beamed at the community. "Well, our little Zoe bee and her nerves! I'll just go see if she passed out somewhere on the way!" She cheerily announced, shot Marc an encouraging look and quickly pranced down the aisle to drag Zoe's ass up to the altar.<p>

The guests chuckled benevolently and Marc smiled; he'd already half-expected Zoe to get nervous, especially with her stage fright and knowing all eyes would be on her today.

Oh, yes, the attention would be on her, alright.

* * *

><p>"Oh, fuck, Sam! Ah!"<p>

Katie stopped dead in her tracks, hand frozen on the doorhandle. That was undoubtedly Zoe's voice, and it were undoubtedly her moans, her cries of lust. Just as it was undoubtedly _not_ Marc fucking her in there.

'No, Zoe could never… not her. Not like this, not here, not now…' Katie couldn't walk away, couldn't go in there and catch them in the act; she could just stand there frozen. Forced to witness the rather unambiguous sounds from inside the room.

"God, yes… Sam!"

Sam faintly perceived the other heartbeat just outside the door, but was too focused on Zoe and not biting her as that he could care.

* * *

><p>Katie took the backdoor back into the church, not wanting anyone from the guests to read the shock on her face. She stepped close to Marc and whispered through the lump in her throat: "I doubt she's going to show up, Marc. Zoe, she…"<p>

"What?" Marc looked at her, the honest worry in his kind eyes tearing at Katie's heart. "What's wrong with Zoe?"

"She…" Katie swallowed hard. Why did she have to be the one to bear the news nobody wanted to deliver? "She's having it off with someone else in the backroom of the sacristy… Marc, I'm sorry."

"You're…!"

"I wouldn't lie about something like that, believe me."

Marc saw the honesty in Katie's eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm so, so sorry."

The groom shook his head. "Zoe wouldn't do that. I'll go talk to her, I'm sure it's all fine."

"What am I supposed to tell them?" Katie nudged towards the guests, who'd begun whispering again. Marc didn't answer; he was already out the door and on his way to the adjoining building.

* * *

><p>Zoe smoothened her skirts; bothering with her hair would be pointless. Her curls were ruined, so she tied them back into a ponytail as that it would be all too obvious a man's hand had just been tugging at them as he passionately kissed her.<p>

Seeing as it wasn't full moon yet, Sam's lust was satisfied for the time being, and he realized he'd just about ruined this girl's reputation. Quite possibly her life if anyone-

"I don't believe it."

Zoe's head shot up, terror like she'd never known before paralyzing her. "Marc!"

Her theoretically-husband turned around in the doorframe and stormed off. All her life, Zoe would never forget the pain on his face. "Marc, wait…!" Zoe ruffled her dress and ran after him as well as she could in the obstructing wedding dress. The hallway lay in semi-darkness, the last sunrays falling in through the windows.

"Don't tell me it's not what it looks like, Zoe!" Marc spat, eyes ablaze as he turned on his heel to face his disloyal former 'five-minutes-from-now-bride'. "You know, I respected your purity ring. I would have waited another year for you, or even longer, because you were worth it. I admired you for your strength, your kindness and your principles, but now I see all too clear just how you'd been able to keep it up: You weren't doing without anything to begin with. I should have seen it sooner."

"Marc, please…" Zoe pleaded, tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry."

"You seem to have found a way to deal with your grief," Marc hissed and nodded towards the backroom.

"I only met him last month, Marc," Zoe babbled anything that sprang to her mind. It wouldn't really matter what she'd say seeing as she could never find the right words, anyhow.

"Well then, here should go an easy decision for you: The man you're engaged to and who's loved you for two years, or the lover you _only_ _met last month_ and who fucks you so senseless you don't see how many people you hurt with your irrational lust?"

Zoe realized just how much she'd thrown away. Not only Marc, but his love and the love of her family, her reputation, respect… everything.

"Well?"

Zoe's voice quivered when she said with trembling lips: "I'm sorry, Marc. I can't explain it to you, but… Sam, he...we-"

If possible, the pain on Marc's face increased – it almost killed Zoe inside to know she was to be held responsible for that. "Glad to know there's a name for the guy who's granted privileges I never got and never will get. I'm sorry about your choice, though. I loved you, Zoe, and I'd have given you goddamn _everything_!"

"I know, and if there was any way I could turn time back, I would have never allowed myself to hurt you this way…I never wanted for this to happen!"

"I bet you didn't want me to find out about it. Tell me, how long would you've played this double game?"

Tears were streaming freely over Zoe's cheeks now. "I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you…!"

"Epic fail, Zoe. You just about hurt me the most a person ever could."

Zoe sobbed and wished she could turn back the time, undo all her mistakes. "Marc…"

"Just tell me why."

"I don't know," Zoe whispered, "I just don't know. That's the truth."

"A very poor one. Then again, truth doesn't seem to be your strength. Now, if you'd excuse me, I've got a wedding to call off."

Zoe attempted to follow him, ready to take the blame and not wanting Marc to go through that humiliating process alone, but he harshly snapped: "No, you've done enough. Just leave."

Even now, after she'd hurt him the worst, he still cared about her; he didn't want her have to stand in front of the assembled guests and everyone undoubtedly knowing what must have gone on in the shady backroom, judging from her deranged appearance. "Marc…"

"Leave, Zoe. And don't come back."

The sun had fully disappeared outside when the door closed behind Marc and Zoe was left alone in the dark corridor. Alone with the beast. "Sam…" She called weakly, the lump in her throat nearly choking her.

Sam knew he should feel sorry, set things right and take all the blame, or at least talk it out with the cheated nearly-husband, but with the moon on the rise, all he felt was: Satisfaction and victory. _Nothing in the way between him and his mate_. _She chose him_.

Zoe flinched at the sudden touch. Sam had appeared behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders comfortingly and placed a kiss on her neck. "Yes."

"Take me out of here. Please. Just… away."

* * *

><p>A good portion of the wedding guests was willing to believe Marc's explanation of Zoe and him having discovered inconsolable differences and that they had agree on not marrying in front of God when they felt it wasn't right. Sure, they wondered why they couldn't have figured that out before, but most agreed that it was better now than a few months from now.<p>

However, Katie's whispered words to Jane and Lola spread faster than a girl could faint at a Robbie Williams concert.

Even the oldest and most naïve guests couldn't shut their eyes to the highly unpleasant truth any longer when Marc's niece pointed out the window to the bride and a stranger leaving. Said stranger having his arm around Zoe's waist and pressing her face to his chest as if shielding her; pointless to deny it was a rather intimate gesture.

Faith Heart fell to her knees and started wailing, praying that her daughter's missteps wouldn't fall back on her and asking God why he'd punish her with such heartache.

Marc left before he could be confronted or attempted to be consoled by anyone.

Andrew decided Zoe could be no sister of his.

Lola arched an impressed eyebrow, Katie ran after Marc and Jane wondered what else they didn't know about Zoe.

On one fact all present guests could agree: Zoe had ruined her own and probably Marc's life, and hurt the people closest to her.

The raindrops tainting Zoe's bridal gown should have been black ink so that the colour of her dress would match her heart.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you all so much for your continued support, you guys are the greatest! =) I made this chapter a little longer to make up for being so slow with the updates!<strong>

**Hope you liked it and a belated Happy Easter! =D**

**xoxo**


	6. Monster In Your Bed

**"Now the hungry lion roars,**  
><strong>And the wolf behowls the moon."<strong>  
><strong>~ Shakespeare, <em>A Midsummer-Night's Dream, v.1.379<em>**

* * *

><p><strong>[self-a·ban·don·ment]<strong>

_absence or lack of personal restraint_

* * *

><p>'I'm so sorry, Zo, so sorry…' Sam wanted to say, but couldn't. Empathy had no space on a night before full moon.<p>

"Why did I do that, Sam?" Zoe asked, voice empty as her eyes were filled with tears.

"I can't tell you, not yet."

Zoe gave a bitter lemon laugh. "I threw my life away back there, disappointed all the people I love, and you aren't willing to give me an explanation that might soothe my mind at least a little?"

"Trust me, it wouldn't soothe you. You're going to have to take that for an answer for now."

Everything in Zoe rebelled against accepting that she'd given up everything for a man like Sam, who was so unlike all the kind men she'd met so far. Oh, certainly, he had his gentle streaks; sadly, they outweighed the ones where she never knew what to expect of him, when he gave her the feeling of her life hanging on a thread.

Afraid of losing the only person not disappointed in and mad at her, Zoe didn't press any further. Her heart couldn't have taken any more arguments tonight, maybe not ever. At the moment, Zoe even considered the possibility of Sam having to visit her in a padded room. Question was: Would he even come?

"Why did you come see me, Sam?"

"Would you mind postponing the conversation until morning?"

Zoe flinched, unable of not thinking how Marc would have never snapped at her like that. She didn't know Sam said it for her own good: Every answer he'd give her tonight would be mainly the werewolf speaking, and God knew what he might say. He could maybe bring up enough control to keep his actions in check, but not his words, too.

Zoe was about to regret her decision of choosing Sam over Marc when Sam proved to be surprisingly gentle; he parked Zoe's car in front of her apartment, got out and rounded it, opened Zoe's door and helped her out – sweeping her up in his arms carefully, as if scared of breaking her. Not enough with that, no; he carried her up the stairs and over the threshold. Zoe should protest, seeing as this was a gruesome parody of her wedding, but couldn't. Instead, she closed her eyes, revelled in the play of his muscles pressing against her and clung to Sam with the last strength she had left. The soft landing she received told her Sam had set her down on the bed, but seeing as there was no weight pressing her down, he'd refrained from joining her for some bed quality time.

Zoe opened her eyes unwillingly and looked up at him. "Thank you."

"Get some sleep," Sam replied, a rough edge to his voice, but kindly.

"Huh, right. I don't think I'll be able to sleep for weeks."

The phone rang, cutting through the air of peace Zoe had been about to build up between herself and Sam. "That'll be my mother… or brother. Anyone, really. Not like they'll have different opinions, so what does it matter," Zoe ran a hand over her eyes, smudging what was left of her make-up.

Sam calmly walked over to the phone, picked up and leisurely pressed the 'end call' button. Bent down and unplugged the phone. "_Sleep_."

'Your wish is my command,' Zoe just thought, not quite sure if ironically or perfectly seriously. Then mercifully, exhaustion overwhelmed her and dragged her into a gratifying, if restless, sleep.

* * *

><p>He should wake her.<p>

Give in to those raging instincts and just ravish her. After all, he was a werewolf – no point denying it – and it would be full moon tomorrow night.

Tomorrow night, Sam reminded himself as he clawed his hands into the couch, knuckles white from restraint. One more night to go; it couldn't be that he was turning animal tonight already. However, despite his remaining human sense telling him it couldn't be, his werewolf hunger was on red alert. Temptation was just five metres away, in the adjoining bedroom.

And she was wearing a wedding dress. For a wedding that would never happen because he'd corrupted this girl's innocence and tore her down with him.

In the end, that was the reason why Sam could muster up just enough self-control to last him until sunrise. Even as a monster, he would refuse completely abandoning all decency.

Unless it was full moon.

* * *

><p>As a 'good morning' present, Zoe was given a raw throat and aching eyes from crying, a hammering head from stress, a jittery feeling in her lower abdomen from passionate sex with Sam and paining stomach muscles from sobbing cramps.<p>

Way to start off your honeymoon.

Oh, wait, that's right: No honeymoon, since no husband.

"How'd you sleep?"

On the one, small upside: No husband meant a very hot lover. Alright, so said lover had the tiny downside of being unpredictable and a little frightening at times... but when Sam sat on the edge of her bed that morning, trustworthy puppy eyes looking at her, Zoe had extreme difficulty remembering those times. "Pending somewhere between horrible and extremely unpeachy."

Sam smiled softly and handed her a cup of tea. "Thought this might make you feel better."

"Thank you," Zoe closed her fingers around the cup, brushing Sam's and not even flinching at the touch anymore. "How long have you been up?"

"All night," Sam replied slowly. Had he fallen asleep, he might well have sleep-walked with Zoe, and he wasn't willing to take that risk. If he wasn't careful, not only her emotional heart might get broken.

_No, __he could never hurt her that way_. _Not his mate_.

"You want a coffee?" Zoe asked with such enticing innocence and kindness. "Or rather the bed to catch up on some sleep?"

Sam chuckled quietly and brushed through her hair. "I'm fine, thanks."

_Not like he would do any sleeping in that bed, not with Zoe so close_.

What was it with him having those strong werewolf streaks, even during the day? It was way off.

"Anything you need?"

Zoe looked at Sam with surprised eyes. Did she have to ruin her reputation and wedding first before he'd show concern and gentleness? Strange, what that y-chromosome did to a person, especially in the feeling department. "Well, I think I might feel a lot better if I got out of this damned dress, so if you could, um, help me with that?"

"Oh, sure," Sam said uncomfortably, trying hard not to pick up the underlying invitation.

Zoe emptied her tea, set the cup down on her book-covered nightstand – 'The Importance Of Being Earnest' by Oscar Wilde would carry a nice round cup stain – and got up with rustling skirts.

Sam brushed her tangled silky hair over her shoulder as to have better access to the zipper of her dress. Or not zipper.

'Great,' He groaned inwardly at the intricate ties, 'Just when I really shouldn't be closer to her than necessary, she wears a dress that's gonna need ten minutes to dispose of and requires me touching her. Just my luck.'

Zoe subconsciously leaned into Sam's touch, loving the feel of his hands on her skin and how it sent tingling shivers down her spine. Closing her eyes to better taste the delectation, Zoe marvelled at the newly discovered sexiness of having someone undress you.

Well, there went a thought she'd never expected to think.

Sam trailed down her spine to the first bow and untied it, knowing he should do this quicker as to get out of temptation's way faster, but he couldn't. The bigger part of him wanted to prolong this moment to the last sweet second.

_Just bend her over already. _

Sam's jaw tightened, and had Zoe seen it, she'd have admired the masculinity of it. Sam bit back the desire welling up in him, but couldn't refrain from bending down and softly kissing Zoe's neck. To his surprise, she didn't flinch away, but rather let her head fall back against his chest, exposing her neck to him in all its vulnerability.

'Dangerous move, Zoe,' Sam thought somewhat helplessly and quickly moved away from her, focused once again on the task of loosening the strings on her dress.

Heat of embarrassment rushed to Zoe's cheeks at what she thought was Sam's rejection of tenderness. And because she'd loved his kisses in a way she shouldn't.

"There," Sam said, his fingers reluctantly letting go of Zoe's dress, already missing the warmth of her body.

"Thanks," Zoe clutched the front of her dress as that it wouldn't slip. As intimate as she'd been with Sam, as self-conscious she was in daylight despite that.

"You want anything for breakfast?"

"Oh, um, toast would be great," Zoe replied uncomfortably.

"Okay, I'll get that ready while you, well…"

"Right, thanks."

Sam nodded and left the room, a confused Zoe in his wake. He was so gentle, so sweet… not at all like the man she'd 'loved' so heatedly. With a sigh, Zoe let the dress slip off her body down to the floor. The heap of cloth around her ankles resembled all too well the mountain of shattered glass her life was and that she'd sooner or later would have to face.

* * *

><p>"Zo…" Sam started, wondering if he would ever get this out right without shouting out loud he was a werewolf.<p>

"Sam, it's okay." Only after she'd said it, Zoe realized she meant it. She trailed her nail over the rim of her tea cup. "It wasn't your fault I did what I did."

"In a way, it was."

"How could it be? It wasn't like you forced me to sleep with you, unless ultimate attraction counts as force." Zoe even managed a small but honest smile.

'Damn it, Zo, if only you knew how right you are…' Sam wished he could lay it all out to her, tell her that what she was feeling wasn't attraction to him, but instinct calling her to him. However, he couldn't corrupt her sweet mind any more than he already had by busting out the 'monsters are real, and you just got laid by one' speech.

"It was me only who betrayed my family's and Marc's trust, and I guess I'll just have to live it down, if they ever let me."

"I'm sure they will, Zo. You're still their family."

Her smile could well be called bitter. "Not sure they'll see it that way… Faith before family."

"This might not comfort you any, Zo, but I'll be here."

She raised her mesmerizing ocean eyes to his. "You're wrong."

"Pardon?"

"You're wrong. It does comfort me."

_It's not a selfless offer, Zoe. Tonight's full moon_.

"Okay, so, I guess I'll get going…" Zoe said after a comfortable silence.

"To…?"

"College. And maybe hell."

Despite the morbid irony behind it, Sam had to smile. Who knew Zoe had a sense for humour? "You sure you want to face it all today?"

"It will only get worse with every day that passes," Zoe sighed as she shrugged into her coat. "I can either take it all now in one big scoop and then get healing and mending, or have healed wounds ripped open later."

If it wasn't for the fact she was a werewolf's bitch, Sam would have described Zoe as a brave lioness.

Then again, that would have made the expression 'heading into the lion's den' less suitable for what expected Zoe.

* * *

><p>Zoe had always despised mobile phones. Who had said she wanted to be available at all times? So, hers was switched off roughly 360 days a year, and on two other days, the battery was dead – from what, wasn't quite certain seeing as it was rarely used.<p>

Either way, Zoe switched her on her Nokia now. Greeted by seven unread messages and a dozen missed calls, she found herself affirmed in her dislike of mobiles.

Pushing the key into the ignition but not turning it yet, Zoe opened the first SMS.

Jane, at 20:12: _Zoe, I mean it, answer you f-ing phone!_

Katie, at 20:23: _How could you do this to Marc? I thought I knew you, but that lecherous viciousness had me shocked_.

Lola, at 20:24: _Damn, girl, nice catch. ;) Don't see why you couldn't tell me earlier, but still, I'm impressed. xoxo_

Zoe refrained from reading the other messages. She'd be faced with people's opinion of her unglamorous cancelling of the wedding soon enough, and she would take it. She had messed up, she'd bear the consequences – but why was she so desperately wishing Sam was at her side? It almost felt like she wasn't _whole_ without him.

"Great, Zo, you don't only throw your reputation away for him, but you also turn into a clingy, needy, pathetic-" Zoe stopped herself as she realized she'd meant to add 'housewife'.

Ironically, housewife was exactly what she wanted to be after she'd married Marc – now the mere thought scared her.

Zoe shook her head. 'What _is_ it with me today?'

She obliterated her uncomfortable thoughts on the drive to college with loud music blasting from the speakers. Sadly, the second she stepped out of the car, that distraction disappeared and she was left facing – a very pissed off Katie.

"That you dare show your face here!"

"Excuse me?" Zoe had expected reprimands, reproaches and rendering of morality, but not rage.

"Congratulations, Zoe, you're the best actress I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. How long were you fucking strangers in the backroom while flaunting the 'prude virgin' act to everyone?"

"Katie…"

"Save it! You broke Marc's heart, for good. Hell, you betrayed all of us, Zoe!"

"Why don't you go comfort Marc, then?" Zoe stated flatly. It was more of an act of despair, to get Katie to listen than what Zoe had meant to say – she was shocked at herself. Then she tasted the liberating relief of speaking her mind, of snapping at someone. "Maybe he wants to listen to you more than I do." With that, she pushed past Katie, who looked after her in outrage.

The walk to her classroom resembled the path that people generally called the one paved with good intentions, for it was hell. Whispers, more or less indistinct, accompanied Zoe all the way and made her wonder just how fast a wildfire could spread that people compared it to gossip's speed.

"Hey, Zo, where's your lover?"

"Not so virgin anymore, are we, slut?"

Zoe bit her lip and told herself she could handle it, that the talk would quiet down… but something snapped in her and refused to accept the victim role. "You know what? Screw all of you. Yes, I've fucked someone else than my fiancée on my wedding day, and you wanna know something else? It was fucking worth it."

That outburst wasn't only a clearance for her mind but also granted her peace for just long enough to take her seat and hide from the stares behind her mane of toffee hair.

"Well, sweetie, I gotta say, I think I might have rubbed off on you after all."

"Lola, if you want to throw reproaches at me, just get in line. Or write a letter of complaint."

The other girl chuckled. "Zo, of all people here, I might be the only one not reproaching you. Hell, I'm this close to asking for advice on how to score such a fine piece of ass."

Tentatively, Zoe flicked back her hair and looked at Lola. Her smile seemed legit, and Zoe figured she might be the only one sticking to her. "Do you know how… my Mom…"

Lola sighed. "I think you ought to see her for yourself. I'm sure she'll be mad, but she'll get over it, Zo. You're her daughter, and you're young – she'll understand."

Turned out, Zoe's mother didn't understand. Didn't even try to.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Dean."<p>

"Sammy, everything okay?"

"Why do you always assume just because I call something's wrong?" Sam smiled at their routine. He always called Dean when he was away, because he knew his older brother would fret if he didn't, and those conversations always ended up starting like this.

"Shut up, bitch."

"Listen, jerk, I'm going to be a few days… maybe more."

"She pretty?"

"Very."

"Go get it, tiger." Dean laughed and hung up, thankfully oblivious to the true nature of Sam's call and that indeed a girl was the reason for his prolonged absence. 'Oh, Sammy.'

* * *

><p>Some people reach for the liquor if they need a courage boost, Zoe had her personal kind of drug: Sam. The common factor of booze and drugs were the life-threatening if not –ending character. And that you mostly realize that once it's too late.<p>

Zoe was mercifully oblivious of that, however.

"Sam?"

"Zo, everything okay?"

"Depends. Do you want the truth or a white lie?"

"I'm sorry."

"I know, even though you don't have to be," Zoe sighed. "I'm at my mother's now, and… to be honest, I don't really know why I called."

That in itself was a lie: she knew exactly why she'd called. Zoe needed to hear Sam's voice. "Don't let anything or anyone get to you, Zoe. You've done nothing wrong."

"Except for cheating in the meanest way on my fiancée, that is."

"Maybe you did, but he's the only one who can reproach you for that, alright? It's nobody else's business and most certainly not their right to judge."

Zoe sighed. "Thanks, Sam."

"It's just the truth."

"Still... Either way, um, I'll, you know, get that talk over and then be back sometime this afternoon."

"I'll be here."

"Thank you for that. Really." After all, there was nothing that forced Sam to stay with her. She wasn't pregnant by him, he didn't love her, she didn't technically love him – all in all, there really was nothing keeping him here.

The thought of him leaving…

Zoe shook her head fiercely. She didn't stand through all the crap she'd been given at college to cave in now to feeble speculations. Drawing strength from an unknown source, Zoe marched up the porch to her mother's door. Surprisingly, it was Andrew who opened. "You've got no business here, Zoe."

"I came to see Mom."

"I know. But she doesn't want to see you."

Zoe flinched from the coldness that met her in her brother's voice. "Let her tell me that herself."

"You're in no position to give anyone orders. Do you have any idea what you did to Mom, to us all? You brought shame onto our family."

Some weeks ago, Zoe might have bowed her head in guilty shame and left. Now, however, it was as if she had her fill of being the whipping boy for everyone else. "We've left the Middle Ages behind us, Andrew. We live in a free country where everyone can love anyone they want."

"Sure they can. And you publicly announced you loved Marc, and that you would marry him. Your sense of loyalty and decency should have kept you from fornicating at least if your faith didn't already."

"Is this about me cheating on Marc or having premarital sex?"

"Excuse me?"

"You pitch this whole 'betrayed trust' speech, but the only one betrayed here is Marc. I'm sorry I hurt him, and he'll be rightfully hating me for the rest of his life and I don't blame him for that. You, on the other hand, have absolutely no right judging over me for that."

"My little sister is the town's lecherous hussy, and you tell me I don't have the right to be involved?"

"Involved, yes, but not judging. As a priest, you can tell me off for what I did, but not as my brother."

Andrew looked at his younger sister in displeased surprise. When did she start talking back? When did she start to reproach and raise her voice? "You can't go in to see Mom," Andrew replied lamely, "Seeing you would kill her. As far as she's concerned, you're not family any longer."

"I figured. Because family sticks together, even in the bad times. Not you two, though. The second I tread just one step off the path, I'm dead to you. Tell me, Andrew: What would God say to that? Wouldn't he tell you to run after the rebellious lamb and bring it back to the herd instead of proclaiming it dead and letting it run into the wolf's arms?" Zoe turned on her heel and floated down the stairs and darted towards her car.

She did a decent job at holding back the tears, at least until the door of her apartment shut behind her and she met Sam's kind hazel eyes.

"Shh," Sam stroked her hair, holding Zoe close to him, and kissed the top of her head. Gently, he led her to the couch, murmuring comforting words as he did.

He wasn't quite sure when exactly Zoe's sobs turned silent and her tears into kisses. All he knew was that the transition was fluid.

Zoe's tear pipes shut off all of a sudden, and she was tired of crying, anyways. Next thing she knew, she was kissing Sam's neck and worked her way up to his lips. The satisfaction she felt when he responded to her kiss was not unlike a hunger satisfied. Zoe crawled onto his lap, and moaned in anticipation as her hands brushed over the impressive bulge in his jeans. Slowly but surely she started to think this man was ready to go at any time for however long.

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you all so much for your continued support, you guys rock! =) I am so happy you like this story! <strong>

**xoxo**


	7. Werewolf And Juliet

**"All of us are God's creatures... just some are more creature than others." **

**Anonymous**

* * *

><p>One advantage of having wild hungry sex all night was that once you did drift off to sleep, it was so deep you couldn't even bother to dream. If your so far peachy life had just turned into Nightmare City, that came in quite handy.<p>

Zoe stretched her body, didn't come far before she got tangled up in the sheets, and half-way fell out of bed. 'Not necessarily my most elegant move,' She ran a hand through her bed hair and looked at her sleeping bed mate with a sigh. 'Whoever gave you the looks of a god and the lust of a devil has a warped sense of humour.'

Zoe was about to turn around and head towards the coffee machine when she caught a mark on Sam's otherwise flawless body – give or take a scar here and there – that she hadn't noticed so far. Considering she had come one on one with him numerous times, that could almost be called lax of her.

Zoe trailed her fingertip over the odd scar - it could best be described as a jagged, halfway drawn half-crescent, as if the artist had lost interest – on his shoulder.

As sudden as lightening strikes, Sam shot up and grabbed Zoe's wrist, wrenched it away from him. The look he threw her struck Zoe as lethal, and only the cry escaping her lips assured her that her throat hadn't been ripped yet. Sam's eyes became human and gentle so quickly again, however, that she blamed her imagination.

"Sorry," He apologized, releasing her hand from his vice-like grip.

"Some instincts you got there," Zoe said breathlessly.

"More like trained reflexes," Sam growled in reply, his deep voice sending tingling needle pricks down Zoe's back from intimidated pleasure. "I'm sorry I scared you."

"Sam, what are you, really?"

"Beg your pardon?" Sam's muscles tensed to the maximum, and his moral mind refused admitting that his werewolf self was prepared to kill Zoe right now should she know too much.

"You're highly educated, I can just tell that much. Yet, you're definitely not the office type. Your hands are a worker's hands, and you seem to have the liberty of arranging your work hours to your leisure. So, what are you?"

Sam relaxed again; there went a lie that had passed his lips an odd hundred times. "I'm a mechanic. I work at my brother's garage." Sam had never realized before how inquisitively penetrating Zoe's docile eyes could be, and had the full moon's influence been any less powerful, he might have crumbled.

"Aha," Zoe replied merely, not certain she was willing to buy that story despite it sounding perfectly plausible. Maybe a little _too_ perfectly. Let's face it: Nothing about Sam was smooth, why would his story be? "And the tattoo?"

"Who hasn't committed a youthful misdeed or two?"

Not that Zoe doubted Sam's ability of loss of control – she had the bruises and orgasm record to prove it – but he didn't strike her as the type of getting wasted and ending up under the needle. "Aha."

"What's with the inquisition?" He pulled her towards him with such a winning smirk, Zoe threw her doubts overboard faster than a captain would a mutineer.

"Just thought I should half-way know the guy I'm sharing my bed with. Oh, and who I gave up my marriage and reputation for," Zoe added casually as she snuggled into his embrace. If anyone had told her sooner what she was missing out on by denying 'morning after cuddles', she'd have jumped Marc's bones months before. Or maybe she wouldn't have; maybe the magic of it was all about _Sam_.

Sam closed his eyes and let the delicious scent wavering up to him from the woman laying so trustworthily in his arms linger on his tongue. Artemis, Goddess of the Moon, knew how badly he wanted to taste it for real… "Normally, people share that kind of information on the first date."

"When exactly did _we_ have a _date_? Or did my faith brainwash me to the point of me not even recognizing a date when I have it?"

"Zoe, you surprise me."

"Lately I tend to surprise even myself."

Sam smiled and brushed through her unruly waves of hair, revelling in the intoxicating scent they radiated. "I didn't take you as the humorous type so far."

"Well, I didn't take myself as the lecherous, moralless type so far, either. I suppose one could say you bring out the best as well as the worst in me. Saint by day, monster by night."

Sam's hand turned to a fist, not that Zoe noticed. He prayed – well, figuratively speaking – she hadn't meant anything by it; when his mate didn't elaborate, he figured the coast was clear.

'I should tell her,' It gnawed at Sam not for the first time. 'This isn't exactly a relaxing status quo, having to weasel my way around a bunch of lies and watch out not to trip over one of them…'

"I've got to go now…" Zoe said with audible regret in her voice, "It's our last Literature class before the exam next week, and I should show some good will and attend." She brushed her lips against Sam's, waiting for a response which readily and heatedly came. Sam pulled her down on him, tasting that sweet, unique taste that was _Zoe_ on her lips and feeling her warm soft body against his.

"What are you going to do today?" Zoe asked as she got dressed. To her surprise, she'd discovered she no longer had a problem with Sam seeing her naked even when they weren't having sex. Apparently, by the fourth time she'd dropped her clothes for him, some of her inhibitions had followed. "How long are you going to stay, anyways?"

'Depends, Zo,' Sam sighed inwardly, 'I _should_ leave right now. I _can't_ leave before tomorrow night… because I have to be with you tonight. Again.'

"When do you want me out of the house?"

"That wasn't the question." Zoe smiled benevolently. "And never will be."

"Let's just see then," Sam pulled her down to him again and eventually released her with a final kiss.

"Just don't take off like last time."

"Don't worry, it won't be like last time… Last time you had a fiancé."

"Yeah, thanks for rubbing that in," Zoe replied strangely unaffected. Upon the sight of Sam in her bed, Marc faded to oblivion. It should have been a first warning sign.

* * *

><p>"How long do you figure I'll get the stares?" Zoe picked at her lunch, about as hungry as after Thanksgiving dinner.<p>

"Until some other girl is silly enough to screw someone not her fiancé and get caught," Lola munched on her salad.

"If that was an attempt of cheering me up, it failed grandly."

"Hey, come on, you've got a handsome hunk at home keeping your bed warm."

'Hot, actually,' Zoe thought.

"If that isn't comfort, then I don't know what is." Lola finished her lunch. "By the way, you never told me how the meeting with your Mom went."

"It didn't."

"Huh?"

"I'm saying that it didn't go any way whatsoever because she didn't even want to meet me."

Lola raised her eyebrows. "You ought to get out of that club, Zoe."

"Pardon?"

"Church." Lola replied mercilessly. "I mean it. If that religion drives your family to turn against you, it ain't worth anything."

Zoe normally would have leapt to defend her faith, but no word of justification left her lips. Was Sam even religious? She'd never gotten around to ask. Then again, there were lots of open questions surrounding her mysterious lover like moths the light. "Yeah, I'm starting to get that."

"Really?" Lola looked at her in surprise; whoever her lover was, he was apparently banging some sense into her.

"Yeah," Zoe sighed, not wanting to expand on the topic. Admitting she might have been a little more than naïve when it came to her faith hurt. "We going to Lit class now or what?"

"Sure thing, Catherine."

"Huh?"

"Earnshaw," Lola grinned. "And Marc being Linton. That leaves your secret lover to be Heathcliff. Well, we all know how that story goes, do we not?"

Zoe rolled her eyes. "I love you, Lola, but right now, all I have to say to you is: Bite me."

"Speaking of love and bites, Zoe-bee; wear a scarf, or the talk and stares will never stop."

Zoe's hand flew to her neck panic-stricken, eyes already scanning the place for a mirror while her other hand rummaged through her bag in search of either a scarf or a cover-up stick.

Only when Lola's chuckles reached her discomfort-clouded mind did Zoe remember she'd already checked for evidence of her lusty night this morning. "Got cha, sweetie. Must have been some night."

"That isn't funny," Zoe growled and took a seat in the very back row of the class room. It wouldn't particularly surprise her if the professor made a remark about her inglorious actions; why should the teachers miss out on the fun, after all? A tenure wasn't a guarantee for a lack of sadism, mostly it was rather a guarantee for its distinctive presence.

"The look on your face was. No need to feel guilty, by the way," Lola lolled into the chair beside her. "Satisfy my curiosity like he undoubtedly satisfied you last night, though, and tell me: Is he worth it? Giving up, well, you know."

"What, my virginity? Or marriage, or reputation, or family?"

"All of it, seeing as you really did give up all of it." Lola, unusually softly and considerately, added: "Do you love him?"

"To be honest: I don't know. I don't even know him well enough to even make a judgement, but I don't regret choosing him over everything else. Maybe that counts for something, maybe that 'something' is just my insanity, but it doesn't really matter now. What's done is done, and whether it was a mistake or not will show itself in due time."

"I hope you know that's a bunch of crap, though I'll give you that it sounded nice."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that you give that whole 'Time will tell' show, but with things like this, you either know or you don't." Lola looked at Zoe unwaveringly, who didn't know if her happy-go-lucky friend had suddenly gotten the epiphany of wisdom or was just provoking her to make an admittance of some kind.

For the first time in the whole of her school career, Zoe witnessed the historical moment of a teacher making herself useful: Professor Bradshaw entered and therewith saved her from a reply.

Zoe switched to sleep mode. Her empty gaze swept over the citation on the board like it would swipe over a blank wall; unrecognizing, indifferent.

"Miss Heart, would you care to read out the quote and interpret it for us once you're done daydreaming? About who, we won't even discuss here?"

An unknown, strong feeling welled up within Zoe, making her heart race with its alien strength. Anger.

Sam's words rang in her head, chiming along with the blood rushing in her ears. _'It's nobody else's business and most certainly not their right to judge.'_

"If we won't discuss it, Professor Bradshaw, then why did you bring it up?"

The chuckling and whispers were silenced. Zoe Heart talked back to a teacher – had someone slipped something into her glass of milk today?

The teacher's eyes narrowed dangerously, but even as a professor of English literature, she couldn't find a striking argument against Zoe's cunning rhetorical rejoinder. "The quote, Miss Heart."

'What, can't you read?' It almost fled Zoe's mouth, but she held it back last second. She had her share of heart fluttering due to adrenaline rush for today. Aside from the shocking experience of actually snapping at a teacher, Zoe felt satisfaction and elation: Things were a lot easier, it seemed, if you didn't pay attention to others' feelings but just what served you.

"_Little girls, this seems to say, never stop upon your way, never trust a stranger friend, no-one knows how it will end! _

_As you're pretty, so be wise! _

_Wolves may lurk in every guise! _

_Now, as then, it's simple truth, sweetest tongue has sharpest tooth!__" _

"Now, the interpretation, if you don't mind? While you're at it, tell us where that quote is from?"

"Rosaleen, The Company of Wolves," Lola hissed under her breath, a tip Zoe was more than glad for, since she had never heard of it before.

"Rosaleen, The Company of Wolves." Zoe replied confidently. From the sour expression on the teacher's face, she gathered she had been right – or well, Lola had been. "And it tells us to not only go for appearances but take a look behind the fancy curtains before we commit ourselves. Moreover, it warns smart, pretty girls to not fall prey to handsome men but…" Zoe took a deep breath, trying to ignore how cut out this quote really was for her, "…but to realize that what seems the sweetest sin really is the first brick on the way to hell."

"Very good, Miss Heart, I see you speak from experience."

"I, at least, have sinful experience to draw upon." There it was again: the high of just speaking her mind instead of holding back because of respect, sympathy or empathy.

Lola shot her friend a proud, but surprised look. Not only had Zoe shown the first crack in her wall of confidence in her faith being right and true, but also was a whole other woman shining through ever since she'd blown off her wedding for the handsome stranger's sake.

What other changes had the relationship with him, of whatever kind it was, in store for Zoe?

* * *

><p>Sam debated whether to make Zoe's apartment ghost and demon proof – then figured she might ask questions about her windows being Margarita-ed and her floor being used as a graffiti panel. She was asking too many questions as it was.<p>

Yet, knowing he would take off tomorrow and not leave her behind protected caused him almost physical discomfort.

He weighed his phone in his hand along with his options. Obviously, the right thing to do would be to call Dean and ask him to put a silver bullet through his heart. Sadly, his werewolf survival instincts protested against that strongly, and offered impregnating Zoe as a much more desirable option.

Not trusting his tone on the night just after full moon, Sam sent Dean a text saying he was okay, hung up with his girl somewhere. He knew his brother wouldn't ask any questions about that; not yet, anyways.

That didn't solve the issue in the long run, however; how long would it take for Dean to figure out the pattern between Sam's 'vacations' and the phases of the moon? Would he hunt his younger brother down? Worse: what if he ended up hunting down Zoe?

* * *

><p>"You're going to leave again, aren't you?" Zoe rolled onto her stomach and gazed down at Sam, her fingers lightly drumming on his bare chest as she placed a kiss on it. The more she got used to Sam's ravenous lust and the ensuing hungry sex, the more she enjoyed it, and the less she wanted to do without him. Not that he didn't still scare her in some moments, no, Zoe just started to live with that.<p>

Certainly, it was shallow that the main quality – possibly the only one, seeing as there wasn't all too much else connecting them – of their 'relationship' was passion, raw, dirty passion. What was Zoe supposed to do about it, though? She'd long passed the point of no return.

Sam looked up to her with guilty puppy eyes. "How'd you…?"

Zoe sighed. "I just do. I can read people to some extent. Normally, I fail miserably with you, this morning, however, I'm granted a glimpse."

"Must be losing my touch."

Zoe chuckled and caressed his defined jaw. "Will I ever get to read the whole book?"

"It's one of those that don't end happy, Zo." It struck Sam as macabre to call her 'sweetheart', so he stuck with her name until he came up with a less tasteless title for her. No pun intended, again.

"I won't ever know if you won't let me get to the end, will I?" Zoe rested her upper torso on Sam's and brushed her fingertip over his eyebrow, wondering what secrets those deceivingly gentle hazel eyes held.

"You ever read one of those books where everyone gets killed off so the author doesn't have to bother with providing them with a happy end of some sort?"

"I take it you're not referring to the bible where the good guys, if they die, rise again in the epilogue?"

Sam smiled and brushed a strand of amber hair behind Zoe's ear affectionately. If only Zoe knew how much truth lay behind her joking words… how many times had he and Dean died? Seven, eight times?

However, being trapped inside his own body with Lucifer at the wheel seemed somewhat easier than being ruled by werewolf instincts, Sam had to admit retrospectively.

"No, I don't mean that. Rather like in 'Romeo and Juliet'."

"Oh, yeah, Shakespeare had indeed been depressed when he wrote that one." Zoe arched an eyebrow. "So you mean like, Harry Potter 7, just minus the warped happy end he got with Ginny?"

Sam scrambled through all the books imprinted on his mind, most of them lore, until he finally found a vague memory of the last Harry Potter book. "Yeah, that's somewhat fitting. Hits just keep coming until nobody's left."

Zoe bit her lip, a sight whose incredibly eroticism she was oblivious to. "How come you already know the end?"

"Know those punch lines at the end of a chapter?"

"The ones that force you to keep reading because you couldn't possibly put the book down now? Yes."

"Had a lot of those, and the last chapter just… predestines a not happy end."

"You can always swing it around. I don't believe anything's written in stone."

"Not even the ten commandments?"

Zoe chuckled. "Honestly? I'm starting to doubt it." Sam realized there was a new, stunning glow about Zoe; was it her shaking off the dire yoke of her prim faith, or was it something else...?

"Who's writing the story, anyways?"

That question threw Sam off. "Destiny?"

"Destiny is just another word for 'self-fulfilling prophecy'. The moment you start blaming destiny, you give up. You stop fighting for what _you_ want and give in to others' plans for you. You don't strike me as the type of man who does that, Sam."

He looked at his girl in wonder; did she know how true and admirably strongly she was talking? Probably not, yet it had a soothing effect on Sam. His situation didn't seem so horridly hopeless anymore. He'd been ready to give in to his werewolfism way too easily, had never even tried to find a cure or anything alike.

"Just let me read it, Sam." Zoe whispered and tremblingly brushed her fingers through his hair.

"No. It's one of those stories that spoil your own happy ending."

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" Zoe softly protested. Too softly.

"Because it's not yours to judge. You don't ask Juliet to bear her fate for her, do you?"

"I highly doubt I'd end up like Juliet," Zoe wished she could believe her own words. Fact was, however, that this conversation was none you'd lead with just any man. Sam was like an uncrackable fortune cookie that held her future inside of it, but he wouldn't let her see it. Worse: she didn't even know which side of Sam she should try to crack. The man she was having these morning conversations with, light and comforting, or the lusting man she had at night, wild and dark? Which one was the right one?

"Zoe…because I like you, I'm begging you: Don't go poking."

"Well, Sam, what do you expect? That you can just come and go as you please and I put my life on hold while you're gone? Offer me _some_ explanation, at least!"

Sam hadn't expected an outburst, not from Zoe. Naturally, she had every right to be pissed at him, he just hadn't thought she'd ever reveal it. "Zo…"

"And don't say it's complicated or that it's better for me if I don't know, because that's just… bullshit!"

Sam believed it to be the wrong time to point out he adored the way her eyes twinkled when she was annoyed, and how her mouth turned pouty like a child's. "I know that, Zoe, and I'm sorry."

"Apparently not enough to either break off whatever you have going back wherever you live, or to commit to me in so much as that you take me back there with you!" Zoe shocked herself more than Sam with that statement. Just yesterday she had more or less admitted she didn't even know him enough to say whether she loved him, and here she was more or less asking him to either move in with her or take her with him.

Zoe highlighted that mental note of hers to get checked for a bipolar disorder.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"Zo, hey. Zo, it's okay," Sam soothed her quickly, making her look at him. "You don't need to apologize. You're right, and I'm sorry for being an ass. I know I'm waltzing into your life unasked, and trample down everything in my way. I promise you I'll set it right somehow. Just…please, give me a little more time."

Zoe found herself nodding. "Okay. When will you be back?"

"First week of May." Sam replied without hesitation.

* * *

><p><strong>You guys are so awesome, thank you all for the alerts, favorites and reviews! =) The next update might take a whee while, I'm having some panic attacks and mental breakdowns here, but hey, A-levels will be over one day... ;D Thanks so much for sticking with me! I'll make sure to make the next chapter extra beasty. ;) <strong>

**xoxo**


	8. Animal I Have Become

**So what if you can see the darkest side of me**  
><strong>No one will ever change this animal I have become<strong>  
><strong>Help me believe it's not the real me<strong>  
><strong>Somebody help me tame this animal I have become<strong>

**Help me believe it's not the real me**  
><strong>Somebody help me tame this animal!<strong>  
><strong>This animal I have become<strong>

_The Animal I Have Become - Three Days Grace_

* * *

><p>Zoe looked around to make sure nobody was watching her, then turned back to the laptop screen. She made a note to herself to check 'symptoms for paranoia' once she was done with her original search.<p>

The browser window she'd opened looked at her expectantly, almost daringly. As if challenging her to throw her sanity onto the chopping block for good.

'Screw this,' Zoe's fingers flew over the keyboard, each 'clack' sounded horribly loud in the empty library.

It took Google 1.2 seconds to show the image results for 'tattoo'. Needless to say, it didn't exactly show what Zoe was looking for.

'Okay, fine,' She massaged the ridge of her nose, racking her brains for details of Sam's tattoo. There'd been a symbol inside that fiery sun… Zoe had seen it before, she just wasn't sure…

_Pentagram_.

The pictures that popped up proved Zoe right: That was the symbol she'd seen on Sam's chest. 'What the…'

She'd slept with a Satanist? Had she fallen _that_ far off the rails? Zoe refused believing it, and clicked 'web search' more out of need to reassure herself she hadn't just booked a suite in hell than real hope she could indeed be delivered still.

Surprisingly, it seemed as if Zoe's tender soul might be preserved for heaven, should she be forgiven the deadly sin of lust. Oh, and the betrayal of people she loved, of breaking with her faith, of lecherousness… God would have to have a ridiculously good day when she knocked at his door.

'Okay, so, no Satanism.' Zoe observed with some relief as she scrolled down the wikipedia article. 'Then that brings up the question: Why would Sam tattoo a protection symbol on his chest?'

Zoe wouldn't have been surprised that had she typed 'Sam Winchester' into the search bar, synonyms would be 'mystery' and 'cause for headaches, guilt and lust'.

* * *

><p>"Well, Sam, I gotta ask."<p>

Sam tensed as if he'd been attached to high voltage equipment. "Ask what?"

"What's up with all your breaks from hunting. I mean, I get that it's been rough and all, but you can't just deal with that crap alone, you have to let me help you."

"Dean… look, I know you want to help, and I appreciate it, I do. But there just are some things I have to handle on my own. I just need some more time."

Dean nodded slowly. His way of dealing with hell had included high proof drinks and a good dose of denial; to be honest, he'd advise Sam to do the same, but the thing was: Sam wasn't him. So if his way of processing Lucifer's cage was flying solo now and again, then his job as the older brother was to let him – but keep an eye on him all the same. It was his responsibility that that wall wouldn't break.

What Dean didn't know was that there were far more important matters on Sam's mind than the tiny detail that he'd been tortured by Lucifer himself for a whole year.

* * *

><p><em>San Diego, Ca<em>_lifornia_

_Three Months Ago _

At times like these, Sam almost wished he smoked. A sleepless existence could get boring enough, stakeouts didn't exactly add to the charm – and a lung-empoisoning habit would be one way to pass the time, at least.

Then again, a smokerlung could prove inconvenient when running after a monster. Getting torn to shreds because you're out of breath from a little fighting wasn't what Sam thought of as a glorious way to go out.

Sam checked the magazine of silver bullets for the trazillionth time this night. It wasn't that he doubted they'd vanish into thin air and leave him defenceless in the claws of a werewolf, but rather that he didn't have anything particularly interesting to do instead.

A rattle, then a clonk.

Sam looked up, his eyes scanning the dark alley. Cocking his gun, he noiselessly melted into the darkness and approached the turned over garbage can. Sure enough, there lay a heartless corpse, blood still gushing out of the shredded body. The werewolf couldn't have gone too far.

Growling, just a few yards away.

Sam whirled around and fired, three silver bullets penetrated the beast's heart, but the growling didn't stop – it came from behind him.

A barely perceptible pain in the neck, which Sam didn't bother paying too much attention to, and he knocked the werewolf onto the ground with one well-aimed punch. Not even blinking, Sam pulled the trigger, giving the monster a lethal dose of silver.

He raised his hand to check his neck for blood, but the ringing of his cell phone stopped him. To cut off the attention-drawing noise, Sam quickly picked up, not even caring that the called ID revealed that it was his brother on the other end. Dean definitely was the smaller vice than getting caught in the centre of a bloody murder scene.

"What?"

"I found a way to get your soul back. Get here as soon as you can."

That message caused soulless Sam to permit his first and last lapse: He forgot about the bite, and when he would remember this night, it would already be too late for a cure had there been one.

* * *

><p><em>Bemidji, Minnesota <em>

_Present Day _

Zoe was sure she had not only developed paranoia, bipolar disorder, but also arithmomania, for the way she was counting down days to the first week of May wasn't healthy, let alone sane anymore.

Sam Winchester had turned her into a walking complex of disorders. And Zoe would happily admit herself to the asylum if it meant she could spend just one day with him; yes, that's how far it had come. Her mind was telling her it was all wrong while her heart and body were screaming that it was all right.

Seems like schizophrenia could be added to the list.

"This one's kinda cute," Lola held up a pair of denim hotpants. She couldn't believe she'd been able to convince Zoe to go shopping with her; it was like Zoe had been abducted by aliens and they'd implanted a chip in her that transformed her into an actual young girl of the 21st century.

"I like the skirt version better," Zoe countered and held up a miniskirt.

"You are aware that that's not a piece of underwear?"

"I'm not stupid, Lola."

"Just saying. It's _short_."

"I had been under the impression that was the point of miniskirts, yes."

Lola raised her eyebrows appreciatively. "Well, go try it on."

"Will do…. Hey, can we go to VS after this?"

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with my churchgirl Zoe?"

"Even nuns have to wear underwear, Lo. As a girl, I'm officially entitled to shop for lingerie, might as well do it at Victoria's Secret."

Lola sighed proudly. "Finally. My influences takes."

"Yeah, yeah," Zoe replied absent-mindedly, thoughts already one week ahead. With Sam. He had infiltrated her mind without her ever noticing that she was quickly steering towards the point of no return when she wouldn't be able to be without him anymore.

And the speed was increasing up to the point where it'd get too fast for her to jump off.

* * *

><p>Faith Heart had stopped looking around. She now sat in church without ever raising her head; her daughter wouldn't come. Weeks had passed since her scandalous 'cancellation' of her wedding, of her disgrace, and the priest had let her know that Zoe hadn't come to confess, let alone to atone.<p>

'Oh, Lord, what dark powers have you let my daughter fall prey to?'

* * *

><p>Zoe stared down at her Literature sheet, reading the same words over and over like Sisyphus rolled his stone uphill again and again, with equal success: Nothing stuck.<p>

'What am I racking my brains for, anyways? What will I ever do with this crap?' In a never-before-occurred fit of spleen, Zoe flung the papers off her desk and jumped up to wander the room restlessly, like a caged in animal.

Deciding that she would get as much efficient work done tonight as politicians in their whole career, Zoe switched off the lights and got ready for bed. Two more days, then she wouldn't lie here alone anymore.

Naturally, now that she could really use sleep as a way of passing the time, the sandman refused to come and release her from her waking suffering. Lazy bastard.

For no apparent reason, Zoe got hot all over, her skin feeling as if burning holes into the covers. Impatiently, she pushed them down to her hips, but the cool night air coming in through the open window did nothing to soothe that fire.

Zoe ran a hand over her collarbone, then felt her forehead; sure enough, her whole body was burning hot, so it was unlikely fever. After a moment's hesitation, Zoe skidded out of her nightie. Even that couldn't bring her body temperature down, she realized as she lay back down again. Unnerved like a child about to throw a temper tantrum, Zoe kicked off the covers completely, with the same effect.

Following a deeply buried instinct that years of prim education had more or less knocked out of her, Zoe nudged her hands towards her breasts. Tentatively, almost ashamed although there certainly were no witnesses, she brushed her fingertips over her nipples, which reacted all too violently by releasing shockwaves of pleasure that gripped her whole body.

Encouraged and at the same time feeling dirty and guilty, Zoe allowed her hand to travel further down, just to discover her pulsing hot middle was even more sensitive to touch than her nipples.

"Sam…" Zoe bit her lips to the point of them becoming numb. She forced herself to stop pleasing herself, to wait for Sam to satisfy that ravenous desire that burnt her up. But she couldn't wait two more days and walk around a jumpy bundle of nerves until then, dripping wet and lusting for sex with every fibre of her body.

More in trance than full sanity, Zoe reached for her phone. At least, a trance would explain her behaviour; it would be more convenient than having to admit she'd probably have to add lecherousness to the list of issues she was developing.

"Zo."

"Sam… can you talk? Where are you?"

"On my way to you," Sam's deep, rough voice was almost enough to make Zoe touch herself again.

"How much longer?"

"A day, probably." Sam wasn't happy about that in the least; he thought he had all the time he needed to pack up and get back to Zoe on time before the time around full moon would start. What he hadn't expected was his hunger setting in full force today – four days before full moon. Then he remembered a rather inconvenient fact from his soulless time; werewolves didn't stick to moon's schedule any longer. They turned on half-moons; who was to say they couldn't turn randomly, at any time?

'Monsters getting creative, that never was a good sign.' Sam thought grimly with the last fibre of humanity left in him at the moment.

_Except this time, you're getting an insight look on the creativity of monsters. _

A quick glance in the rearview mirror told him his pupils had turned to black slits already – he would either have to get to Zoe tonight or hope he wouldn't cross any humans before the sun came back out.

Considering he was driving up to Minnesota, the probability he wouldn't run into a human was ridiculously high, actually. So unless the new werewolf diet included deer, he might pass the night without murdering anything to satisfy that burning hunger in him.

"Make it a quick day," Zoe breathed, and before she knew it, she confessed what she'd meant to say all along: "I'm so fucking hot for you, Sam. Now, here… I need you. Want you to fill me, make me scream."

"Believe me, there's nothing I'd rather do than drive into you so hard you won't walk for a week."

Zoe let the long-suppressed moan roll over her tongue. "I want you to, Sam. Fuck me senseless, make my body regret needing you. I want you to come inside of me, hump me dry," Zoe's breath became irregular, her free hand squeezed her left breast, which was aching with need to…_nurse_.

Sam's hands tightened on the steering wheel and might well have snapped it in two if he didn't release most of his frustration on the gas pedal. The speedometer sprung to 150 mph.

"My body screams for you, Sam."

_I can hear it, Zo. Believe me.__ Loud and clear. _

* * *

><p>With the first beams of releasing sunlight, Zoe's sexually tensed body finally relaxed, leaving her exhausted and unsatisfied.<p>

'Wow. Well that wasn't fun,' Zoe dryly commented to herself. She had a feeling that if any man had shown up at her doorstep this night, she'd have jumped his bones like a bitch in heat.

'Bones, bitch in heat, I'm talking about myself like an animal,' Zoe grumbled and tried getting some order in her hair – fat chance. Wondering if her professors would take 'sleep deprivation from intense sexual longing for a tall dark handsome stranger' as an excuse, Zoe crawled back into bed. One day of absence would neither hurt her nor her grades, and she'd avoid the risk of having sex with the janitor in the broom closet, too – she wanted to preserve all that sexual energy for Sam.

Gripped again by that heat, Zoe's hand crept to her still wet centre. She pushed down her panties and abandoned all thought of the wrongness of this as she slipped a finger into her, letting out a somewhat relieved sigh at the promise of this electrifying tension being released.

A growl, deep and holding the promise of the strength of ripping her apart if he wished to.

Zoe's eyes flew open and she sat up abruptly, as if struck by epiphany – or maybe by lightening. Same thing essentially.

Seeing his mate pleasuring herself held some sexy excitement, Sam had to admit; but if anyone was allowed to make her scream and fill her with pleasure, he was.

"Sam," Zoe breathed, not knowing if she should die of shame now or sigh in relief. Sam ended that debate by taking her hand away from her lap, fiercely pushing her down onto the bed and spreading her legs as he pinned her arms above her head with such strength she'd carry bruises tomorrow.

Zoe lay there like an obedient bitch – which she technically was – and arched her hips towards Sam in a plea of finally satisfying that lust burning her up. "Sam, please, just…" At that moment, she didn't wonder how he'd gotten inside and how she hadn't noticed, all she cared about was having him deep inside her and pounding that pulsing spot until it hurt.

"Please what?"

"Make me scream. Fulfil those promises you made on the phone."

Sam believed this to have been sufficient foreplay. Keeping Zoe's wrists pinned down with one hand, he discarded of his jeans with his other and drove into her with one hard, deep thrust without further preamble.

"Fuck, yes!" Zoe moaned and pushed her hips forwards to meet Sam's violent thrusts and take him as deep as possible. "Sam, oh, shit, right there… harder. Fuck." Not being able to move her arms freely drove her insane, but the good kind of insane; it didn't take long for her to scream out her release.

Sam came inside of her, pumping his werewolf seed into her, but was hard for her again before he even pulled out. He flipped Zoe around. "Get on your knees."

Zoe shivered from perverse excitement at what was to come her way. If she kept on corrupting and de-moralizing herself at this rate, she'd be a porn star by next week.

If she had thought that being tied down had been submissive, Zoe experienced a whole other level of it now that she could feel Sam's rock-hard length pressing at her wet pussy from behind. "Oh, God, _yes_," She moaned, despite feeling that twinge of uneasiness of being even more at his whim than she already was.

"You're so damn tight," Sam groaned as he drove himself between her legs riotously, ignoring Zoe's whimper at the discomfort of the unfamiliar position and the different feel of him inside of her. Her arms trembled, threatening to desert her, as she had to withstand the violent but oh so sinfully pleasing rams from behind. She felt Sam's fingers painfully digging into her hips as he drove into her, and despite knowing she should cry from unease, she couldn't help but scream in pleasure. "Yeah, oh, fuck, yes! _Sam_!"

After the second orgasm had racked her body, Zoe felt satisfied, relieved and happy. For now.

* * *

><p>Zoe snuggled closer to Sam as her breath calmed down to a human pace again. For a moment, she'd actually been scared her heart might give out.<p>

She didn't seek his closeness out of affection, but rather because it felt right being near him. "Are you ever going to tell me why you got this tattoo instead of an other?" Zoe started softly, tracing the ink under Sam's firm tan skin.

"I thought I already told you…"

"You told me it was a stupid thing you did when you were young, but a) am I not quite buying that yet, and b) why not get, let's say a naked woman instead of a pentagram?"

"What, not rebellious enough for you?"

"I don't think rebellion is the real motive behind it."

"No? Then what would be?"

"Protection."

Sam huffed contemptuously, not liking Zoe catching onto the right trail – or barking up the right tree, so to speak. "Of what?"

"You tell me."

"I don't think I will."

Zoe sat up and glared down at Sam, though even her superior physical position didn't change the dangerous glint in Sam's eyes that reduced her self-confidence to that of an awkward teenager instead of a young woman who'd just discovered the taste of life. And all she wanted in that moment was for him to tear her down into that gorgeous abyss the devouring hunger in his eyes presented her.

Zoe changed tactic; instead of throwing a bitchy fit, she went for bleak straightforwardness: "Why not?"

"It's not important."

"Then it shouldn't hurt to tell me," Zoe said quietly. Bedroom eyes on Sam, she glided one leg over him as she rolled on top of him so that she straddled him now. Seductively – at least, Zoe thought that might be a suitable term for what she was doing and how – she leaned down and kissed Sam's firm abdomen, lips trailing up to his chest.

Raw lust gripped Sam as he felt her lush breasts brush against him, those cursed innocent lips rolling over his heated skin up to the tattoo. Zoe stifled a cry of surprise when Sam abruptly grabbed her, fisting his hand in her hair as he crushed her mouth on his. After the shock of the attack had quickly worn off, Zoe melted in the kiss with all the passion she had to give.

And she realized she wasn't only prone to her instincts, but could make use of them, too: "Not before you tell me."

"You're kind of persistent, anyone ever tell you that?"

"No, because I didn't use to be."

Sam pushed his hand against her back, pressing her down on him to make their mouths connect fierily again. "Bad time to start."

"What, you don't like your women speaking their minds?"

"Sure. But not when I want to fuck them senseless."

Zoe didn't even flinch at the sound of those rough words anymore. "I want to know."

"Yeah, I got that. And I don't want to tell you. Besides, you're really willing to prostitute yourself like that?"

"What?" Zoe screeched indignantly; she may be a moralless hussy, yes, but not a prostitute. Yet, anyways.

"You're selling sex for info," Sam arched an eyebrow, and from the look of hurt pride on Zoe's still unspoilt innocent face, he knew he had her.

"Fine," She hissed, and Sam could barely control himself not to bite her right there and then with that delicious scent of annoyance swimming through her scent… damn he wanted to mark her as his, make her his werewolf bitch.

As Sam smiled triumphantly when Zoe stopped pestering and instead lowered herself onto his throbbing erection, a new thought occurred to him: Maybe that was the reason she still wasn't pregnant: She was human, possibly not physically able to conceive from a werewolf…

_Claim her_. _Turn her._

* * *

><p><strong>So this chapter turned out a little shorter than I had originally planned, but I figured it's still better than nothing, right? Thanks for reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting, you guys keep me going! =) <strong>

**Reviews are love! =)**


	9. Trapped By Moonlight

**"To look into the eyes of a wolf is to see your own soul – hope you like what you see." **

**-Aldo Leopold**

* * *

><p>"Oh man, I really slept like crap last night," Lola ran a hand through her messy brown hair and slouched into her chair beside Zoe, who slurped at her Caramel Macchiato and shot her drowsy-eyed friend an amused look. "Well, not for nothing, Lo, but you look like it, too."<p>

"Charming, thank you. You now, just when I came to love the new you, you fire insults at me."

"You practically made me the new me, so stop complaining."

"Oh, no, sweetie, that new you is entirely your mystery lover. I spent ages trying to get you to wear lingerie with even a tiny lace-trimming, you wouldn't have it. He comes along; you empty Victoria's Secrets' racks. What's next, Agent Provocateur? Kama Sutra instead of Bible?"

Zoe just smiled and assigned her lips the job of emptying her drink instead of answering that.

"You're supposed to deny me now. Say that he has nothing to do with it, that he was a one-night thing…that kind of assurance? No?"

"Sorry, Lola, but I happen to have had an amazing night. Not much sleep, either, but reviving it was nonetheless."

Lola debated whether to make yet another snarky comment about Zoe's newly discovered promiscuity or go after matters more important. She settled for the latter. "Does he have a brother?"

"I don't know, didn't really come up between the sheets."

"You've been doing the man for what, three months now? And never bothered asking what his background was?"

"Oh, wait, actually, we did talk about that, and yes, he has a brother. Sorry, suffered from momentary memory loss due to world-shattering orgasm."

"Good for you, sweetie, now, before I commit a murder out of jealousy, hand over the brother's number."

"I don't have it, Lola. Because other than that one talk, we really didn't bother with each other's life stories."

"Well, get it, then."

"So I'm just supposed to go up to Sam and say: 'Oh, by the way, Sam, I know that we only ever really connected on a physical basis, but see, my lecherous and sexually frustrated friend would really like to screw your brother, think you can give her his number?'"

Lola pouted and pretended to think about that. "Yeah. Sounds about right. Just leave out the sexually frustrated part."

"Forget it."

"Why, because you're worried that digging into your lover's background will bring shady secrets to the light? Because to me, it sounds like you don't _want_ to talk to him about it."

"You know what, I don't. I'd really much rather screw him than hammer him."

"Don't buy it," Lola quipped. "Look, Zo, maybe you can turn from God's lamb to Sex Goddess within a couple of weeks, but you're fooling yourself only when you say that you don't care that you know crap about who you're sharing your bed with. You care about that kind of stuff, and you wouldn't be Zoe if you didn't, Sex Goddess or not."

Zoe bit her lip, flinching from the unexpected soreness of it; she hadn't been aware Sam and she had kissed each other _that_ heatedly. "You know, I never accounted you that high of a Social IQ."

"Pff, you kidding me? A _guy_ could have figured that one out, and don't I know that they ain't too big on the feelings and understanding women."

Zoe chuckled and made a vow to herself she'd ask Sam about more of his life… after all the intimate nights they'd shared, she thought herself to be entitled to the truth. "Alright, I'll dig. Back to you, though, sweetie: Since I assume you didn't get lucky last night for once, judging from the unhappy look on your face, what is it that kept you up? Wasn't cramming for the exams, I take it."

"No," Lola groaned and buried her head in her hands. "Stupid full moon, that's what."

"That was yesterday?"

"Nope, tonight, but I'm a little premature. Always toss and turn one night before and after, too."

"Wow, sucks for you."

"That would have been your cue for empathy."

"Yeah, that was sacrificed on the altar along with my virginity, sorry," Zoe chuckled and rubbed Lola's back encouragingly. "Come on, let's head to another riveting lesson of our favourite professor."

"You know, irony still sounds creepy coming out of your mouth."

* * *

><p>"I don't know, Bobby, he just," Dean looked for the right word, "took off, left me with the case only half-finished…"<p>

"Well, the kid had a lot to deal with lately," Bobby Singer idly watched the milk pour into the glass. This was far from the first talk of this kind he'd had with Dean.

"Yeah, and since when does Sam deal with the serious crap on his own? He was the one who went full Oprah on me and pestered me for months to talk about my time in hell. It's not Sam's style, that's all."

"I'm not sure you're hearing me here, Dean. Sam was in _Lucifer's Cage_ for over a year and had his _broken soul shoved back_ into him. Give him time to deal."

Dean sighed and ran a hand over his face wearily. It wasn't just worry about Sam that tore him up lately, it wasn't even the Mother of All business going on, either; a fair share of guilt meddled with him here. Dean knew he couldn't have let his little brother's soul rot in hell, of course not; but maybe what he'd done, bringing it back with just a feeble wall between Sam and a whole other kind of hell, hadn't been favour of the year, either.

"Sam's not you, Dean. Johnny Walker and rage might have worked for you, but Sam's always been the brooding pensive type. You let him off the leash a little here, it'll be fine."

"Yeah, I guess," Dean replied automatically and sank onto the motel bed, this time with psychedelic orange-green covers. "Thanks, Bobby."

"You take care of yourself."

"You, too. See ya," Dean hung up and tossed the phone onto the nightstand. He let his gaze wander emptily over his surroundings, his mind anywhere but here in this sleepy town somewhere in Arizona. Or had it been New Mexico? Dean couldn't bother to remember. It all swam around loosely in his head; if you never knew a home other than a car and the road, you stopped caring about places and states. The only fixed mark Dean had ever known was Sam. Now even he was acting out of sorts...

Dean pulled his gun from the waistband of his jeans and pushed it under his pillow; a 0.45 always ensured safe, if not sweet, dreams. Following the famous Kansas song, Dean laid his weary head to rest.

He could sleep under the most awkward of conditions; hunting taught you that much. In the backseat of the Impala under a nosy bridge – no problem. On the ground of some rundown house in the middle of nowhere – Sure. However, _that_ _damn_ _moon_ was irritating him, shining preposterously brightly right into his eyes.

"Typical," Dean growled and dragged his body into a vertical position. On his way to close the curtains, it suddenly struck him; A pattern. _There was a goddamn pattern_.

"Son of a bitch."

'_You let him off the leash a little here…'_

"_Son of a bitch_!"

* * *

><p>"Hey, Z, did you hear from your Mom lately?" Lola asked carefully.<p>

"Nope. Not since the almost-wedding," Zoe replied and chewed on her dinner, "Can't say I miss her all too much. Life's a lot more fun without her preaching her morals to me."

"I bet," Lola huffed and shook her head laughingly. "So, what's your highscore?"

"Of…?"

"Orgasms a night."

Zoe stayed silent.

"Come on, Zo, don't hold out on me!"

"_I'm counting_!"

Lola's mouth fell open. "Wow. I never thought I'd ever hear you say that in regards to _orgasms_. So, what's your memory telling you?"

"Like… five… or seven." Zoe had lost count; last night hadn't been part of this world for her anymore. Sam had made her come closer to heaven than church ever had.

"Are we still talking a night? Or in your overall relationship?"

"Former."

"Holy fucking God, that is, I mean, _damn_," Lola hadn't believed herself to be easily impressed; up til now, anyways. "Find out his brother's location and number ASAP. I'm hoping that kind of skills run in the family…"

"Right. Topic change, please?"

"Ahh, a prude streak, thank you! Finally. For a moment there, I was afraid we would actually have a whole day of naughty fun. Creepy thought, that."

"Bite me."

"Sam beat me to that punch, I believe," Lola stated matter-of-factly and pulled Zoe's hair back from her neck to reveal impressive love bites. Not that Zoe knew, but it had been all Sam could do not to sink his teeth into her tempting warm flesh and turn her while making her scream with otherworldly pleasure. The pattern of bruises and love bites that covered her whole body? That was Zoe getting off easy…

Zoe squatted Lola's hand away, "Yeah, yeah. So, what's up, other than you looking like a Thriller music video participant?"

"Bite me," Lola growled.

"You just _wish_ I did."

"Okay, I am so not ready for having you even imply Lesbian sex!"

"Pure jealousy."

"You got me there. Can we switch topics?"

Zoe grinned; she actually really enjoyed the witty, teasing conversations and not having to answer to anyone about what she was doing (or rather, who). It made her feel alive and independent, like she could actually decide over what she wanted to do with her life. "Sure. Talk ahead."

"Alright, I'll start with some venting."

"Sounds promising."

Zoe wasn't disappointed. "Who the fuck does Prof Hayden think he fucking is?"

"What'd he do now?" Zoe sipped at her wine, rather unimpressed by her friend's outburst of temper. Lola and Professor Hayden were like a tank of gasoline and a lit match; didn't mix well and the outcome of a meeting was always unpleasant and destructive.

"He has all the time of the world for his freaking Mythology students, but when I come with a question about Anthropology, he's suddenly busier than the Times Square! What the fucking hell!"

Zoe nodded sympathetically as Lola ranted on and on and eventually concluded with: "What's up with Mythology, anyways? Who needs that?"

"People who want to become professors later on and teach about it?" Zoe suggested.

"I mean, what is there to teach, anyways? I visited a class once some years back, and honestly, not too much interesting stuff going down."

"How is that any different to the other classes?" Zoe raised her eyebrows and shot a glance outside, noticing it was slowly getting dark. As the light faded outside, a hungry emptiness inside her grew, demanding to be filled…

Quickly shaking that feeling off, Zoe sought distraction: "What was that lesson about?"

"Not quite sure, ended up making out with Bernd Haley after ten minutes," Lola shrugged, "Maybe that was the real reason I think Mythology is boring… Anyways, something with the importance of full moon for the pagan lore, then I think I dropped out."

"Made out, would be more like it." Zoe replied, her thoughts racing ten steps ahead: Full moon. Why did the sound of that taste strange on her tongue? "Hey, Lo, I've got to go and check something out, I'll see you tomorrow."

Zoe slipped her jacket on, grabbed her purse and headed for the public library.

* * *

><p>Sam could hear Zoe's scent singing to him long before she parked her car in front of the apartment building. It was stronger than usual, and held a bitter note of anger, and an ever so slight note of fear, which made it even more intoxicating. Damn, he wanted to sink his teeth into her neck and ram into her as he did…<p>

Sam could hear Zoe fumble with the keys and her hands shake as she unlocked the door. The fact she was unsettled, possibly afraid and angry, didn't remotely affect him; all the human emotions of the world wouldn't stop him tonight.

Zoe didn't know if she should even close the door, since she intended to stay no longer than necessary – alright, so she'd passed that point a long time ago, in fact, she shouldn't even have come here. Yet, here she was, facing Sam, who hadn't bothered with putting on more than jeans today; but this time, she wouldn't allow his deceivingly divine looks to lure her in any further and shut the trap close that she'd so blue-eyedly walked in.

"Zo." It was a statement, spoken more like an order than a welcome.

The moon, on the rise, cast dangerous shadows on Sam's face, whereby Zoe had no idea how shadows could look dangerous. All she knew was that she was damn scared right now, but also too pissed to just walk away without having a word with him. "What…" She swallowed the lump in her throat. "What the hell are you?"

"What do you think?"

Zoe stumbled backwards against the door. "So you're not even going to try to deny it, to…?"

Sam shrugged carelessly; no matter what he said or did, Zoe would be his one way or another. "Why should I deny the truth?"

"Oh, maybe because you've been denying it _to me_ the whole fucking time!" Zoe exploded, flinching from surprise at herself.

"Alright. So, before I confess to wrong things and make any further mistakes when it comes to the truth; what is it you're accusing me of?"

"Tell me what the hell you are, because you're not human."

"No," Sam replied, "I'm not."

"Well, don't sugarcoat it for me!" Zoe hissed and turned on her heel, but didn't as much as take one step before she found her arms grabbed by Sam and his muscular chest pressed against her back, not fooling her for one second about the capabilities his strength gave him.

"Do you want to say it or shall I?" He whispered hoarsely, voice rough with suppressed desire and lack of humanity.

"There's nothing I want to say to you," Zoe struggled against his grip, which turned out to be as successful a mission as making a stone swim.

"Oh, really?"

Zoe tensed up, forcing herself not to look at Sam and not to let herself be beguiled by his captivating voice. She bit her lip and let Sam turn her around roughly, making her face him and see the horrible truth about what he was in his animalish eyes. "No. Actually, I've got a few things to say. _Werewolf_."

"Apparently, college education does pay off after all," Sam said in a tone as if he'd observed a fact he knew to be true in the first place.

Suspecting it was one thing, but to have him affirm it instead of calling her a nutcase was a whole other matter – Zoe was gripped by fear and using the element of surprise, she managed to break free of Sam's grip on her and darted towards the door. "Stay the hell away from me!"

"Don't you think it's a little late for that?" Sam said lazily and watched her entertaining attempt of flight.

"No, I don't!" Zoe screeched and pressed the door handle down, only to find her head was swimming with the speed Sam had whirled her around and crashed her against the wall.

"Well. I think differently." He snarled against her neck.

"Everyone's entitled to their opinion, now let me the fuck go!"

"Zoe, really, cussing?"

Zoe ignored his input. She'd heard of adrenaline rushes making people do the craziest things, but getting pissed at a _monster_ more than capable of killing you, that was definitely taking the cake. "You know, I should have seen it before. All those freaking signs, and I just allotted our 'connection' to chemistry or I don't know what other shit."

"Human romantic crap," Sam just said and brushed her hair away from her shoulders, reveling in the sight of her perfect, spotless skin and that enticing scent wavering off of her... he was so done resisting. "It's basic instinct, nothing more."

"I get that, thank you very much. I'm afraid you're going to have to find another virgin for your breeding program, 'cause I am so dropping out of it!"

"No, you're not."

"Uh, yes I am!"

"How you're going to do that, hm?"

The simple truth would be: Zoe had no idea. The brutal truth was: Her anger was fading and therewith her willpower. The longer Sam had her pinned painfully against the door, the more frightened she got; and more turned on, too. No woman would admit to it, but being controlled and dominated wasn't that rare a desire among them. And being pushed up against the wall, caged in by arms strong enough to snap her neck; that definitely was being controlled and dominated.

"Thought so," Sam said and crushed his lips on hers.

'No,' Zoe thought helplessly. She didn't get away now, she'd be dead… best case scenario. Drawing together what little of sense she had left, Zoe clawed at Sam's chest, pushing him off of her just far enough for her to breathe again. "No."

"Zo, cut the drama. You can't escape me, for one, and two, even if you could, you wouldn't."

Zoe was so sick and tired of people telling her what to do and not do. "Watch me." Therewith she finally managed to open the door and escape the lethal confinement of her apartment that had begun to resemble a death row cell more than her home.

Sam sighed lazily and watched her run down the stairs as if it really mattered how fast she ran; like a hamster in his wheel, she could run and run, but get nowhere in the end.

Sure, thrill of the chase was nice and all, but enough was enough. Sam calmly turned towards the window.

* * *

><p>Tears streamed out of Zoe's eyes, and she couldn't tell whether the salty river flowing down her face originated from anger or fear, a combination of both, or maybe even hatred of herself and her ignorance. It didn't exactly help her situation that while he legs may move in the one direction, her heart – or rather more nether regions - ordered her to head the opposite.<p>

'No, Zo, not now, not now… tell your damn libido to stick it. Alright, bad choice of words…'

It should have struck her as odd that Sam didn't even try to follow her after his brash determination to keep her here; but to say Zoe's mind was otherwise occupied would have been an understatement. Central Station was a damn recreational area compared to the rush hour that went down in her head.

'Where the hell am I even going?' Zoe had reached the last flight of stairs, mere steps away from freedom now, but the moonlight shining in through the nearing front door held nothing comforting. However this would turn out, something was already taken from Zoe forever; her innocence for one, and the ability of finding peace at night for another. She'd never be able to look at the world the same, just when she thought she'd begun to finally figure it out…

"Can we cut to the chase now? It's getting boring."

Zoe's screams didn't dare leave her throat, as if they didn't want to attract any attention in fear of getting ripped to shreds. If Zoe could, she'd have followed their example. Sadly, however, she was too corporeal as to just disappear. "How did you…?"

Sam just looked heavenwards, which in Zoe's opinion, was touching on blasphemy, however cooled off her relationship to God may have gotten.

"That's impossible," Zoe breathed, hoping some Godly entity would turn her words into reality.

"So you're willing to believe in the paranormal, but won't allot it some supernatural abilities?"

Zoe took back everything she'd said about the uselessness of Mythology class; had she bothered to take it, she wouldn't stand here facing a… _monster_, defenseless and wondering which creature it was again that had to be invited in and could be repelled by garlic.

A shocking epiphany unkindly revealed to Zoe that those were vampires, not werewolves.

She was either screwed in the 'Killed by a werewolf' way, or the 'fucked to the point of insanity by a werewolf' way, and wasn't quite sure which would be the more desirable fate.

"Sam, please, don't do this," Zoe stumbled backwards. She knew begging was hopeless, but in her devastation, she would try anything. Resistance hadn't worked and never would, so she would give pleading a shot. After that, she could only resort to crying, and if that wouldn't work, there wasn't much left to do but lie down and die.

But it didn't seem like Sam wanted her dead. Though he surely did seem to want her to lie down.

"Don't do _what_, Zoe?" With every step he took towards her, she stumbled further back into the house, and she wasn't sure if it would turn out to be her death trap or her salvation.

"You know what," she whimpered and rather fell up the stairs than climbed them. Tears of fear were running down her cheeks, while more southern regions of her body were leaking different kinds of fluids. Even though, or especially because, she knew the horrid truth now, Sam seemed even more irresistible to her. Zoe found herself trapped between lust and terror, and it wasn't the most pleasant of sensations.

"Not exactly, no," By now, they were back in her apartment, and Sam locked the door behind them. "Don't kill you, don't hurt you, don't turn you? Or don't fuck you?"

Zoe flinched. Death, pain and sex, that she had reckoned with. But him turning her? That hadn't been on her radar whatsoever, and she had a feeling that that was the iceberg that would bring her to sink.


	10. Bite Of No Return

_A/N: A sooner update for you guys because you rock for all your reviews, faves and alerts! =D _

_Maybe a little more M than other chapters, as blood enters the equation… but hey, this was no Disney flick to begin with, so on with the orgy. ;D_

* * *

><p><strong>We should never try to deny the beast – the animal within us.<br>**_**Dr. George Waggner, The Howling**_

* * *

><p>"Just tell me why," She whispered, not giving him an answer.<p>

"Remember I once told you that it just had to be you?"

"Yes." Unsatisfying conversation that had been; now Zoe wished she had never asked. Ignorance truly was bliss, until it stabbed you in the back, like it now did.

"It had to be you because you're my mate, Zoe."

She shook her head, as if that motion could change anything, as if it could reshape the truth she was forced to face. "Sam, please, that doesn't make sense."

"It might not in your understanding of the world, Zoe, but there are things out there that you can't even begin to understand."

"I don't believe I even want to." Zoe felt her legs hit the bed, and realized with surging hot certainty that she was trapped for good.

"Maybe not," Sam shrugged his impressive shoulders, "But I'm afraid you're forced to accept the werewolf part of it tonight."

"Fine, just kill me quickly."

Sam shook his head, "Zoe, Zoe. I have no intention of killing you."

"You're going to have to, because I will not…!" Zoe couldn't say it. Lust was a sin, yes, but so was lying, and that's exactly what she'd be doing if she claimed not to want to sleep with Sam. He seemed to sense her inner torment, as he closed the last remaining distance between them and ripped open her shirt. And not just 'rip open' in the way slutty romance novels had you believe, but actually tear it apart, letting it fall off her luscious body in rags.

"You already booked a suite in hell," he murmured against her neck as his hands cupped her breasts, "You might as well enjoy the ride."

* * *

><p>It took five minutes for Dean to gather up the courage. There had been little things in his life that he had so rebelled against; saying yes to Michael had been one of them. Giving his father the promise to kill Sam should he turn evil.<p>

Had John referred to the demon blood only, or was this promise to be extended on any supernatural crap that'd happen to Sam? Like a werewolf bite.

'Please don't let there be a body count, please…' Dean took a deep breath and finally searched the Bemidji news online. He'd tracked Sam's cell phone to the town in Minnesota half an hour ago, now he would have to do what any hunter would: Find out if there was a case, and if there was a monster on the loose that would have to be killed to be stopped.

Deep down, Dean knew he could never pull the trigger on his brother no matter what monster he became. He hadn't given in to the itch he felt everytime he held a gun and soulless Sam was nearby, and he sure as hell wouldn't shoot him now.

The website was done loading, and Dean was faced with the headline.

* * *

><p>Zoe weighed her options: God or Sam.<p>

Lookswise, it was no competition, and as to sexual satisfaction, Sam surely was matchless, too; but for twenty years, Zoe had lived in faith, and deep-rooted habits and beliefs can't just get erased like that. Sam was a monster, a creature who would never be allowed on the steps of heaven, and she might be forgiven the sin of lecherousness, but not of sleeping with something, at best, called a pagan, if not an abomination.

Zoe looked into Sam's eyes, hazel despite the animalish character it had taken. Hooking her fingers into the waistband of his jeans, she pulled him towards her and gave her lips over to his. "Want you so bad," she mumbled as they fell back onto the bed. "Werewolf or not."

Female libido can be a bitch, no pun intended.

Zoe didn't know how much of their clothing made it to the floor in one piece, it couldn't have been a lot, though, judging from the sounds of tearing cloth that filled the air. If there had been a world record of how fast a couple can get each other naked, they'd have broken it.

"Zoe… so perfect," Sam murmured as he traced the outlines of her curves, patiently at first, but then the smell of her sexual arouse hit his nostrils, sweet and alluring, and irresistible. "I need to be inside your perfect body, right now."

_So damn ready…_

"Yes," she hissed, "Fuck me deeper than you ever have before, I want you to fill me!"

"I'm going to take you so hard you'll regret begging me for it."

"Never," Zoe dug her fingers into Sam's strong back in preparation of the savagery that was coming her way. She wasn't disappointed; if at all, she had underestimated the wildness of transformed werewolves.

"Oh my God!" Zoe couldn't help but cry out, blasphemy or not. Sam had taken her by her word, and entered her in one powerful thrust, stretching her to breaking point.

"Better than that, Zo."

"Mhm," she just nodded, not having enough sense left to say more. As the first wave of her orgasm breached her, she threw her head back as she buried her hands in Sam's hair and whispered hoarsely: "Bite me, Sam."

Not that he'd had other plans, but hearing her begging him to was a whole other level of satisfaction. Her pleasure brought her blood to sing in the most tempting of ways, and the mere thought of letting her go unclaimed just one more day made him growl deeply. She was his alone, and it was time to leave his mark on her.

_Claim her, turn her… She was his. Forever. _

"Oh, God, Sam, please, _bite me_!"

Her hot walls tightened around him, and Sam felt his own release nearing as he pumped in and out of her with ever increasing speed. Zoe arched her back towards him, presenting her breasts in all their naked glory.

That's when Sam's last remaining restrain failed.

Zoe yelped when he sunk his teeth into the tender flesh of her left breast, right over her heart. She thought the pain would pass, but instead, it spread – contaminated her whole body from the inside, and as much as she wanted to scratch to relieve the burning sensation, it was under her skin and therewith irrevocably in her system.

Sam pressed his fangs deeper into her skin, drawing some more of her still human blood. If he'd thought she'd smelled delicious, that had been only because he hadn't tasted her then; Zoe was irresistible.

_Finally_.

"Sam… it hurts… oh, fuck, I'm going to-" All pain was temporarily forgotten as her most powerful orgasm yet gripped her tight, and with a feral growl, Sam came and emptied himself inside her clenching walls, just when her blood ceased to taste human.

Sam pulled out of her, ran a hand over her belly gently and lay down beside her to give her time for respite. She would need it.

Zoe touched the bleeding mark on her breast with her fingertips, not yet aware of the consequences it would hold for her; why had she begged Sam to bite her? She didn't know. The impulse had just been there, and feeling his teeth tear her skin had been perversely satisfying. As if by tasting her in every sense of the word, she'd finally become what she'd subconsciously longed for all along: His.

The day might come when Zoe would give anything to have decided differently tonight; but that day hadn't come yet. Now, there was only the night, with the moon shining bright.

* * *

><p><em>Blackouts expected due to thunderstorms. <em>

Dean looked again. Searched in the archive, dug into other newspapers. Not one single suspicious death. Those people found dead still had their heart; it was of little use to them, unbeating as it was, but Dean didn't really care, as long as their center piece was present.

'Oh, thank God,' He thought and actually meant it this time. Maybe the old man was upstairs, after all. He debated calling Sam, but figured that as long as he didn't know for sure, it was best to lay low; if Sam indeed was wolfing out, then there'd be no point tipping him off; if he wasn't, then there was no reason Dean should tell him about his suspicions.

The nagging feeling in the back of his mind, however, told him for sure what the newspaper not yet revealed: Sam was a werewolf. And if Dean couldn't find a cure, then he would either get lots of people killed, or he'd have to kill his brother.

* * *

><p>Sam took Zoe's hand and brought her bloody fingertips to his lips, sucking the blood from each finger teasingly slowly, and giving Zoe a vague idea of what she would do with him later tonight.<p>

But first things first.

"Make me a baby, Sam." Zoe groaned as she buried her hand in Sam's hair and threw her head back in anticipation of the animalistic pleasure that was to come her way as he got on top of her again. The bite on her breast pulsed with pain, pumping it through her body, where it mingled with the sinful pleasure and tore her apart inside out. "Or a puppy, or a cub, whatever the correct term is. Just _get me pregnant_. I want your offspring growing in me, I want to conceive your baby."

Sam grinned triumphantly as he grazed his teeth over Zoe's neck. Turning her had been the right decision, in so many ways. He could feel her body heat increasing, and knew that she was bound to carry out his heir now that she was werewolf, too. Her humanity had been the last barrier between them and a child, and it was gone for good now.

_Shouldn't have waited this long in the first place. _

"Oh, I intend to make you lots of babies."

Zoe's sharp canines glowed in the moonlight as she growled at him; "Then get started." Power and a feeling of invincibility surged through her body, held it tight in their grip, and never had Zoe felt so alive. Never would it have occurred to her before to give orders, let alone of the sexual kind, but hell if she didn't enjoy it.

Sam smirked at her, well, _wolfishness_, and flipped her over, running his hand over her smooth, flawless back up to her shoulders. He gripped them tight and rammed into her pussy full force, clawish nails digging into her soft flesh as her wincing moan turned him on even harder.

"Sam, fuck, hurts so good," Zoe groaned as she could smell her own blood, felt it trickle down her chest in small drops. It left behind a thin winding river of red, as if someone had painted it with a brush, the painter's mission being to imperfect the beauty of her pale skin and unravel the monster hidden underneath.

At the smell of her blood, Sam drew out of her, threw her on her back again and bent down to lick up every ever so tiny speck of blood on her.

"Don't you stop fucking me," Zoe growled. Though Sam's tongue on her skin certainly had pleasurable qualities, she itched and needed that itch relieved.

The taste of his mate on his tongue, Sam brought his head back up and looked at Zoe. "Tell me again what you want."

Zoe lightly grazed her sharp nails over Sam's impressionable biceps. "I want you buried deep inside of me, and I want you to make me scream your name out loud as I come, and I want you to make me pregnant. And I want it all _now_."

"Such a demanding bitch you are," he gripped her hair and crushed his mouth on hers violently. His other hand reached down between her legs and spread them wide, gliding his cock into her tight welcoming wetness.

Zoe moaned out in relief at feeling him pound that itching sweet spot, "I'm what you made me."


	11. Blood On The Dancefloor

**Hunger drives the wolf out of the wood. **

**_– English Proverb_**

* * *

><p>"Sam, I'm so hungry…" Zoe whined. Inside of her, all the cravings and instincts a human – or rather, a living being remotely resembling a human – could have were gathering into one powerful inferno that set her whole body on fire. Lust. Hunger. Blood. <em>Kill<em>.

"I know, baby, it'll pass," As Sam said it, he wondered why they should wait for the hunger to pass if they could as well satisfy it. You don't tell a baby to crawl when he can walk, do you?

"But I'm starving, Sam, I just want to _eat_!" Zoe caught his lips in a hungry kiss. Her nerves were fluttery like a child's on his first day of school, and impatience joined the party of emotions turmoiling in her heart and soul. "Please, baby, let's just go out and eat. Please," Zoe climbed onto his lap and let her hands wander over his chiseled hot body, too focused on her hunger as to notice how she could feel his blood flowing through his veins under her fingertips.

Everything she did, everything she saw and felt only reached her through a veil, as if it wasn't really her. On the other hand, she perceived everything as strongly as never before. If she had to describe it, she might say she had been killed but felt more alive than she'd ever been.

The bite over her heart had stopped hurting, and Zoe could feel life pulsing through her whole body, originating from that crescent-shaped mark on her.

Should her mind clear in the morning, then she'd probably realize what had happened to her tonight, and that she'd taken a step – or rather Sam had taken that step for her – she couldn't retrace. Like entering a room and hearing the lock close behind you, but you realize you have no key.

"Get dressed," Sam growled against her neck. Her scent had changed; changed from the alluring 'unclaimed mate' scent to one that would let anyone, or rather any werewolf, know she was his. "We're going out to eat."

There was something else about the way her blood smelled, and it wasn't just the transformation. Sam wasn't sure what it was, but he intended to find out.

"Should I dress in a way that would attract our food, or that enables me freedom of movement to hunt it down?" Zoe ran her tongue over Sam's sharpened teeth, sending a jolt of lust through him.

Scraping together what little remnants of morals he had, Sam decided that they'd only kill those who asked for it; so _hunting_ was out of the question. He counted on plenty of human scum to roam the streets at night – they'd satisfy their raging hunger, and the world wouldn't be the poorer.

"Dress to attract."

* * *

><p>Was it the need to nourish his family that drove him out in the streets, willing to kill? Sam wasn't sure. He'd gone months without killing, but that had been when Zoe had satisfied his hunger instead of stirring it up further; now the sight of her lusting for blood just made him want to tear out hearts and see her transform beside him as they indulged their bloodlust.<p>

"I'd just wish the bad guys would hurry up and show up already," Zoe complained and wrapped an arm around his waist as they ambled down the darkest alleyways. What used to look to her like a suicide mission now looked like a good take-out place. "So I've been thinking that after we get ourselves some food, we could go back home and satisfy a different kind of hunger...together."

"That was the plan all along." Sam laid an arm around her shoulder and pushed his hand down her low-cut shirt. His fingertips slipped between the silky fabric of her bra and found her nipples hard and sensitive.

"Sam…" She bit her lip and tried to suppress the longing moan, "Not now, we need to eat."

"I do intend to eat," he replied, not taking his hand away.

"That's dessert you're thinking of."

"Then let's get past the main course quickly."

As expected, it wasn't hard to find dinner. Tonight's menu: Robber, with a side of nearly-rapist.

* * *

><p>Zoe sunk her teeth – fangs would be more like it, actually – into the man's throat, ripping his main artery open and tasting his blood as it flowed over her lips into her mouth, some down her chin. It didn't satisfy her. The blood was like an appetizer; though meant to squelch the hunger until the main course, it only stirred it up further until you reached the point where you just wanted to march into the kitchen and eat everything in your way.<p>

That 'everything' in Zoe's case was the guy's heart. Its tempting pumping had stopped soon after Zoe had given him a rather ferocious love bite. Licking the last drops of blood from her lips, Zoe looked up to Sam.

He smiled at her, leaned down and kissed her fiercely, his tongue tasting the lingering scent of blood in her mouth. Blood and sex was a powerful combination, and in werewolf cases, lethal for those unfortunate enough to be in the immediate vicinity.

"Still so hungry," Zoe murmured, broke free from the kiss and scratched her nails down the dead man's chest. She dug her nails into his flesh, drawing what little blood was still left in his body, and after Sam gave her a reassuring nod, she ripped open his chest and devoured his heart.

It wasn't the best, Zoe tasted. Too much drink, too much smoke and too little exercise had left the man's heart a stale delicacy, but it soothed her hunger, though not enough.

"Feel better, baby?" Sam stroked through her hair, detangled it where it the blood had crusted and turned it into knots.

"Yes," she mumbled and crawled into his lap, "but I want more. Still so hungry…"

"Aren't you an insatiable one?" Sam smiled and kissed the away some of the blood that had spilled on her cleavage. Her dress was stained and torn, which would just make it even the easier for Sam tonight to take it off.

"Please, baby, just one more."

Sam looked down the dark alleyway where he heard the faint beating of a heart coming their way. "On its way to you."

"Join in this time?" Zoe pleaded.

Fangs extended, Sam grazed his teeth over her lips, barely resisting biting down on their voluptuousness. "Certainly."

* * *

><p>Retrospectively, he shouldn't have picked up the phone. Then again, if he hadn't, who knew who Bobby would have given the case to instead; it didn't really matter, seeing as everyone other than him wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger.<p>

"Hey, Bobby, what's up?" Dean ran a hand over his face, trying to wipe the remnants of sleep from his eyes.

"You and Sam working a case right now?"

Dean hesitated, wondering whether to tell Bobby about his suspicions or not. As much as he loved the man, he couldn't even tell him about that. "No, we're, uh, just hanging out."

"Well, pack up. Seems like there's a case."

"Where?" Dean felt his guts clutch together violently, fear spreading through him like blood poisoning.

"Up in Minnesota, town called Bemidji. Looks like a werewolf."

* * *

><p><strong>I know it's a little shorter than usual, but I wanted to give you something at least, because you guys simply are the best! Your reviews make my day and I want to thank you for all that sweet support! =)<strong>


	12. Bloodlust Is Bliss

**You have to be able to appreciate these things. How many people can say it was a full moon last night and appreciate it?**

_**Sandy Miller**_

* * *

><p>"Sam…" Zoe gulped, willing herself not to look down at her shaking hands, where she knew she would find dried blood under her nails. Her eyes were transfixed on the TV that she had turned on this morning without further thinking; it was just a routine action.<p>

Memories tentatively sneaking their way into her mind, Zoe realized that her routine was going to be shaken in its deepest manifests. In fact, she might as well draw up a whole new plan of life, seeing as her past life was history at best, destroyed at worst.

"Yeah?" He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at her from the bed.

"What do you remember of last night?" Zoe did her best to keep the quiver in her voice under control; it was a mission bound to failure.

Sam frowned, surprised at her question. "Why do you ask, Zo?"

"Because the news are swarming with the discovery of bloody murders here in Bemidji this morning, and I wake up with blood on my hands, not remembering a damn thing of last night?"

Sam was about to soothe her, tell her that it would be okay– when he realized that he didn't remember, either. In his werewolf life, that was the first time he had turned and blacked out in the morning. What the hell had changed last night, what had they done, where have they been?

Sam didn't need his former premonitional skills to know that blood was about to hit the fan.

"_Sam!" _

"Okay, Zoe, don't freak out, alright? It'll all be okay." No way would it be okay, but his main concern right now was keeping Zoe calm.

Zoe huffed. "_How_? Sam, what the hell happened last night? Why can't I remember?" In her agitation, Zoe's robe slipped from her shoulders and revealed the mark on her left breast, and Sam became all too aware of 'what the hell had happened last night', or at least, parts of it. Experience told him the rest.

'Oh, God, please, no,' Sam couldn't believe he really had turned this sweet young girl, made her into a monster because of his own cowardice that had forbidden him to tell Dean to end him. Had it really been cowardice, or basic survival instinct taking over? At this point, it didn't even matter anymore.

Zoe was a werewolf.

Because he had made her one. He'd marked her, claimed her as his, and ripped her life to bits in the process; he would never be able to make that alright again, and if he had ten lifetimes to make amends.

"Zoe… we have to talk."

* * *

><p>"Okay, fine, let's start with why on earth is there a pile of bloody clothing in my hallway? And what exactly did you give me last night that I don't remember a freaking thing?"<p>

'Death,' Sam thought dryly.

He tried to soothe Zoe, but not only was he far from being the epicenter of serenity, but also did he not know where to start once she let him. "Zoe, sweetheart, calm down, I'll explain."

"And while you're at it, explain to me again why I'm 80% certain that I initially intended to never see you again last night."

"If you'd shut up for a moment, I would explain," he snapped, harsher than he meant to.

Zoe closed her mouth, but the tight line her lips formed told Sam that she was far from happy, and would let loose another canon of questions at the first chance she got. He would have to make good use of the time he had.

"You might want to sit down for this."

"I'm comfy right here."

Sam bored his eyes into her, and even though they hadn't transformed, some deep-rooted instinct told Zoe to throw free will and emancipation out the window and comply. She sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at Sam, who noticed a certain glow in her eyes and a new strength, as if the werewolf virus had erased all remnants of the introverted girl incapable of defending herself and bending to anyone's whim.

Yet, he refused to see any advantages to this situation. After 29 years of this crap, he wouldn't suddenly believe that something good could come out of being a monster.

_The sheets tangled around their hot bodies as they mated for the umpteenth time that night, Zoe's lips caught by his as he moved deep inside her. He could still taste the last man's heart on her lips, his blood in her mouth and feel the strength it had given her as she dug her nails – claws – into his back_.

Sam suppressed a flinch at the sudden flashback. He didn't want to remember more, but his memory sadly enough was something he couldn't control; he had had to experience that before, when the wall had crumbled for a brief moment. What horrors would he find this time? "Zoe, what's the last thing you remember?"

Zoe sighed, "Having dinner with Lola. Something, something, driving here. To confront you about… I don't know. Do I even want to know?" She looked at him with her deep blue eyes, and he saw more trust in them than he'd ever deserved.

It was temptingly easy to tell her no and move on, but move on _whereto_? There was no place to hide any longer, and Sam owed her the whole truth, as well as an explanation, an abundance of apologies – not that they'd ever fix anything, but he had to say them anyhow – and he could never leave her alone with how, _what_, she was now.

He needed to keep her safe from hunters, and other werewolves possibly roaming the area looking for a hook-up. He'd dragged her into this mess, now it was his job to protect her from it as well as possible. That, and he had actually come to like her on more than just 'primal instinct' level.

"Honestly, I doubt it, but you need to know," Sam finally answered, "Remember I told you my brother and I were mechanics?"

"Yes." Zoe refrained from asking what that had to do with anything.

"That wasn't the truth."

* * *

><p>The only lead he had was a bunch of corpses, all not related to each other, some killed sloppier than the others, but the fact remained that they missed their center piece. Dean had seen his share of mutilated bodies, and the sight of their marred dead flesh wasn't what caused that sick feeling in his gut. It was knowing that it was his brother who'd done it.<p>

Granted, not quite his brother, but close enough.

"Judging from the difference in precision of the kill, I would say you are looking for two attackers," the coroner said absent-mindedly as he studied his charts.

Dean was about to nod, not paying any particular attention since he already knew what and who he was up against, but that made him pause. "Two?"

"Yup. One more experienced than the other, I would say – of course, that is if it was a human murderer, and not some stray pack of pitbulls roaming the streets. All of the victims were living on the street, more or less, and not that I'd say it's a common thing for a bunch of killer dogs gone rogue, but who knows."

"Okay, thanks, doc," Dean mumbled and left the government facility. They always made him uneasy, and he made a habit out of spending minimum time within them.

Two werewolves. That limited it down to a male and female, seeing as werewolves didn't take well to concurrence unless it was their own pack; said pack could only consist of mates and their young.

Just when Dean wanted to relax and cross Sammy off the list of suspects, it struck him like lightning: The girl Sam had talked about. What if that part about his absences had been true? What if…?

'No, Sammy, no,' Dean cursed and let the Impala roar to life. Why hadn't he insisted on more information? Hell, he should have just locked Sam down and never let him take off that frequently, or he should have seen the damn pattern before. The damn problem with patterns was that they sometimes took some time to surface, such as the moon cycle.

'Okay, Dean, stay cool. What did Sam say about her?' Dean cursed his memory, which seemed to go on a vacation whenever girls were involved. So far, he'd just believed that it concerned his long row of flings, but apparently, it was to be extended to his brother's (much shorter list), too.

College. He had once mentioned she was going to college.

* * *

><p>"Zoe?"<p>

Her eyes remained fixed on some point at the horizon, the early morning sunlight had diminished her pupils to small black dots, giving way to the complete beauty of her sapphire irises.

"Zoe, please say something. Hell, yell at me, throw things, just do _something_."

She hadn't interrupted him once as he told her everything; and by everything, he did mean every single thing, spared nothing. Not the demon blood, not Lucifer. Not Eve, not his former lack of a soul; but the hardest part had been telling her about what he was now, and what he had made her.

"Zo-"

"Let me sum this up," she interrupted him stealthily, "There is a God, which I find out just after I've abandoned my faith, and there is a devil. Just like there is basically every monster out there anyone has ever heard of. And you are one of them, after you have hunted them for your whole life. Ignoring the irony of that, that would leave us at you turning me into a werewolf as well. So then we most likely went on a killing spree yesterday night, throwing our very own monster ball. Did I get that right?"

"Zoe-"

"Yes or no?"

"Yes."

Zoe took a breath. She still wasn't looking at him when she said: "So now, what with the lunar cycle no longer being an indicator, I could turn wolfy any night, rip out some throats and go home happy because I will remember jack the next day."

That dry sarcastic tone was a whole new side to Zoe, one he hadn't reckoned with, and hence didn't know whether it was a sign for acceptance or hysteria.

"Technically, it is controllable. The hunger, I mean."

"Oh, yeah, we did terrific on that one last night."

That's when Sam realized why he didn't remember yesterday night: Bloodlust and its satisfaction had transformed him more werewolf than ever before; it had erased his humanity completely, blacked it out. Whenever he wolfed out in so much as kill and take hearts, his human side would step back and only resurface when the moon disappeared, as if his own humanity was scared of him at night.

Wasn't that just a terrific prospect.

"Sam… we _killed_." Zoe sounded more broken up about that than her new physiology. "_Humans_. I mean, they were douchebags, and would have hurt people if we hadn't stopped them, but… that doesn't exactly give us the right to kill them."

"I wish I had some excuse for that, Zo, I really do," Sam said quietly, "but I don't." Guilt was weighing on him like it had when he'd been possessed by Meg and killed that other hunter; only now, it was about ten times worse.

Back then, it hadn't been him; his body, yes, but it wasn't _his_ mind who'd been in control then. Unlike now. The monster that had killed last night was part of him, hell, it _was_ him. No exorcism spell would change that. Or any other cure, for that matter.

"Even if we could move past that, which I'll admit will take me a long time, there's still no guarantee we won't do it again."

"No, there isn't," Sam admitted, "Zoe, I'm so sorry."

Finally, she looked at him. "You know, part of me wants to hate you. The other, much bigger, part can't. My _reasonable_ excuse for that is arguing that you didn't get turned by choice, either, and though I still think you should have told me from the start, I understand why you didn't. Not like I would have believed you," she sighed, "And the _real_ excuse is that I can't help but caring for the man you are when you're not, well, wolfed out. Whether it's intentional or not, I don't know, but you… you make me feel alive. As much as I'd like to freak out, scream and never see you again, I just can't."

"You're insane, Zoe." Sam had expected a lot of reactions, all reaching somewhere between hysteria and fury, but never coming close to acceptance. "You shouldn't even talk to me anymore after what I did to you."

She shrugged. "Maybe. But then again, we're kind of in the only boat on a wide empty ocean together, and bad company's still better than none."

Sam smiled despite the crap situation they were in; Zoe had a lot more strength than anyone, him included, ever gave her credit for.

"You know… there's something else."

"Something _else_? Geez, what could there _possibly_ still be? The Easter Bunny? Hogwarts?"

"No, nothing of that kind."

Zoe took in the serious look on Sam's handsome face and hesitatingly scooted closer to him. The sane part of her rebelled against her decision to stick with him, and against her too easy acceptance of her new homicidal tendencies, but luckily enough, a good portion of her sanity had been erased as werewolfism took over. She _needed_ him. "What is it, then?"

"It'll only be a matter of time before hunters catch our trace. And Dean will have figured it out by now, too…" Sam trailed off, and Zoe slowly took his hand in hers.

"You care about him greatly," she stated. She hoped for Sam's sake that Dean wasn't as quick to give up on his sibling like her brother Andrew had been.

"Yes."

"Don't you think he'd understand?"

"Understand that I've become one of the things we dedicated our lives to hunt down, understand that I turned an innocent girl into a…?"

"No," Zoe shook her head, "Understand that this wasn't your fault. Understand that when you dedicate your life to a selfless cause, it is no shame to need help yourself one day and to want understanding. You became what you are now because you protected innocent people, and put yourself into the line of fire between them and monsters. Believe me, I'd be the first to blame you, but I have no reason to. Yes, you've changed my life, if for the better or the worse yet has to show, but even if worst comes to worst… I don't blame you."

Sam tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I don't deserve you."

"You know… I may not remember much of yesterday night," Zoe smiled, "but I do know you sounded a lot more confident of yourself."

Sam huffed, "Yeah, right. Well, there's a difference between the guy of last night and who I really am."

Zoe bit her bottom lip and brushed his hair from his forehead. "I think I'd like to know both."


	13. Wolf Off The Leash

**Every one is a moon, and has a dark side which he never shows to anybody.**

**Mark Twain**

* * *

><p>"You okay?"<p>

"Not really. I'm still debating on how many shades of crazy I am." Zoe looked at what little luggage she had packed, barely holding back hysterical giggles.

"I'm so sorry for dragging you into this, Zo…"

"No," she shook her head bravely, "I'm okay. Really."

"You don't have to lie to me."

"I'm not lying, just stretching the truth," she said and heaved her suitcase into the trunk of her car. It was a sad proof of how little she had lived over the past years that it didn't take much convincing to leave it all behind, and more importantly, that the essentials and meaningful belongings could be packed into one bag. "You do realize, Sam, that if we do hit the road together, there's not really a way back? I mean, we'll be stuck together and what if it doesn't work out?"

"It will. And even if it doesn't, I still have to keep you safe. We don't need to be on speaking terms for that," he shot her a tentative smile.

"It sounds kind of ironic that I need protection _now_, when I'm technically the predator."

"Did I already tell you that you take this amazingly? Which is actually kind of creepy?" Sam remarked as he got in behind the wheel, Zoe beside him on the passenger's seat.

"Well, I figured if fate, or whatever the heck you want to call it, decided to bless me with a natural allure to werewolves, it had a reason in doing so. I mean, others are meant to become president, or star athletes, or singers – I pulled the 'werewolf mate' card. The plus side: I certainly do have the nicest fangs of all. And I only harm heartless people. Alright, bad joke."

"Is it possible that you talk when you're nervous?"

"How'd you guess?"

"Just a feeling."

"Suppose I can officially write down 'sensitive' on the list of your character traits."

"You keep a list?" Sam huffed; apparently, Zoe was a lot more fun to be around than he believed at first.

"Nope, I keep two. The day list and the night list, alternatively called the werewolf and the human list."

"And I suppose my lesson of today about you is that your reaction to distressing situations is morbid humour."

"Hey, if you can't bust out the gallows jokes then, when else?"

* * *

><p>"Oh, yeah, I have seen him around," the pretty girl grinned, "But sadly not enough. Zoe keeps him all to herself, which I think is rather selfish for a Christian, but I guess that after what happened on her intended wedding day, I shouldn't be surprised."<p>

Whoever she was, Dean thought, she liked to talk. The better for him.

"So, why are you looking for him?" Her pouty lips closed around the straw of her drink, which Dean supposed was one of these over-priced, strange mutilations of simple coffee. In other words, it was a Sammy drink.

"He's my brother, and I haven't heard from him in a while, so I was just wondering where he was," Dean replied, and more worry rang through in those words than he'd ever intended to show.

The girl's eyebrows shot up, and Dean recognized the interest in her eyes; it was the same he showed any time a pretty girl walked by. "_You're_ Sam's brother?"

"I take it you've heard from me?"

"Oh, not nearly enough, it seems. Zoe did neglect to mention that good looks apparently indeed run in the family," she smiled winningly, and Dean had to admit that she had won him over. Yes, that easily. She was, on top of being very pretty, his only lead to Sam, and Dean thought he might as well take her out and get the necessary information out of her.

"Dean."

She took his extended hand. "Lola."

* * *

><p>Zoe fell asleep just after they've crossed the Canadian border.<p>

Sam resisted the temptation to push the slipped strap of her top back on her shoulder. To do that, he would have to touch her warm, smooth skin, and he didn't trust himself with that; not yet and maybe not ever again. He'd already proved how disastrous his self-control was around her and what bloody messes it led to.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a nagging voice asked him if this werewolfism really was so bad. What was it that he had always wanted? Not hunting anymore, a girl, a family and not moving around any longer. What was he about to get due to him being werewolf now? An end of his hunting days (in the terms of monster hunt; as to people hunt, Sam wasn't ready to bet his money on that yet.), a great girl/mate, possibly a child/cub soon and a steady place to live in.

If you ignored the small print, the current situation came closest to the fulfillment of his dreams. Dreams he thought he'd given up on – until the point when Zoe said she'd like to know him, both sides of him. It brought back all those feelings and hopes he thought he'd had killed inside over the years, and left him with yet another monster to fight within. The monster that told him it was okay to enjoy this, that he should stop searching for faults so feverishly.

Whether he'd embrace his monstrosity or not, fact remained he would have to tell Dean. His brother deserved better than to be left in the dark as to why Sam had, once again, taken off, this time for good and without further notice or explanation. Sam vowed to himself to let Dean know as soon as Zoe and he got settled in – wherever that would be.

"We in Oz yet?"

Sam smiled, ripped from his reverie by Zoe's sleepy voice. "No, might need to clack your heels again."

"Nah, you do that to get back home. Though, really, Kansas? Not my first choice."

"Used to be mine. Somewhat."

"What do you mean?" Zoe attempted smoothing her hair, but neglected that task to look at Sam with her soulful, still innocent looking, eyes.

"Nothing."

"Want to try that again?"

"My home town, or the town most closely resembling a home town, anyways, is in Kansas. Stull Cemetery, the place I sort of died in, too."

"Oh. Right," Zoe said quietly, "Does saying stuff like 'The place I died in' even sound weird to you anymore?"

"Not really, no."

"Alright, I know that you've told me everything and all, but could we still set up a tiny rule?"

"What's that?"

"Sugarcoat this stuff for me, please? At least until I'm _sort of_ used to it?"

Sam chuckled, thoughtlessly reached for Zoe's hand and kissed its back. "Very well. Any more rules?"

"Not so far, no. Well, apart from the obvious: Let's try not to eat humans when we turn all beasty." Zoe sighed and ran a hand over her face, "Man, this is messed up."

"Couldn't have summed it up any better. You hungry?"

"What's on the menu?"

"Well, since the sun's up and us being on the no-human diet: Greasy diner food."

"Great, I'm starving for some carbs and transfats."

* * *

><p>"You know, Sam, we only ever talked about how I feel about this," Zoe started as she inspected the cozy little house. "Are you really okay with giving up what little steadiness you had in your life and move in with a girl you barely know?"<p>

"I wasn't aware that I only barely knew you."

"You know what I mean."

Sam sighed and took Zoe's face inbetween his hands. "Zoe, you are in this mess because of me, and I'm going to do anything to keep you safe. From now on, anyways."

Zoe actually found it in her to chuckle. "Well, not like it can really get any worse."

"You don't want me answering that."

"I didn't technically _ask_." Zoe kissed him lightly; them being together when not at least one was a transformed werewolf was new and challenging, but also thrilling. They'd make it work somehow, Zoe hoped.

"Honestly, Zoe, having a steady, if very reclusive home, and living with a sweet, pretty girl doesn't really strike me as a punishment."

"Reclusive is a flattering term, this cabin's in the freaking middle of nowhere for one, and two, what if this sweet girl turns wild and horny on some nights?"

"That would be when the punishment settles in," Sam teased. It struck him as highly unsuitable that he allowed himself to feel some peace at this moment – because if he was honest to himself, the current situation seriously _sucked_. He was a monster best killed, had turned an innocent girl into a monster, destroying her life, he had killed people, had left, hurt and betrayed his brother – again – and had to keep himself and Zoe alive, which meant hidden from hunters.

Even though his life surely wasn't champagne and caviar right now, Sam found that water and bread tasted just as good.

* * *

><p>"So when's the last time you've seen either of them around?"<p>

Lola tapped her well-manicured nails on the table as she thought that over. "Well, Sam, I've only ever really seen when he asked questions about Zoe, then again some weeks later, at her nearly-wedding."

"That she ruined by banging my brother?" Dean hadn't believed it when Lola first told him about that, and he wasn't quite buying it yet, either. Sam, meddling with a woman's engagement and eventually destroying her wedding? Please. Dean, sure, that would be something not to be put past him, but Sammy?

This was wrong in so many ways.

"Yup. If you ask me, Zoe needed it. Damn, that girl used to have a stick up her ass, if you excuse my French, and now she's actually _fun_ to be around. Anyways, back to your question: Last time I saw Zoe was one week ago. It's strange for her not to show up for class, but it's happened more and more over the past months, so I didn't really worry until you showed up. Think they burnt through together?" Lola didn't add that she actually found that prospect quite romantic.

Dean wasn't sure whether to hope for that or not. If Sam indeed was a werewolf, which was getting more likely by the minute, then Dean halfway wished he'd never find him. On the other hand, better him than another hunter.

As for the people getting killed in the process, they were, for once, only Dean's second concern.

"Maybe," he finally answered. "If they did, where would Zoe go?"

"You got me," Lola shrugged, "She grew up here, never went on vacation other than to Canada once in her life, her whole family's here, her friends…"

"So basically, they could be anywhere."

Lola arched an eyebrow, "You and Sam spent your lives on the road?"

"Yeah, how'd you guess?"

"Well, you asked for Zoe's places to go, and since she doesn't have any, the next step would be checking Sam's, but judging from your suspicion they could be anywhere, I take it Sam and you don't have a fixed place to go in times of trouble. So it's only logical to assume you don't have a steady home, and considering your car's got an impossible mileage, I take it you're driving around. That in turn does make a life on the road very plausible."

Dean frowned, wondering if that girl ever pulled a full stop, "You like to talk, don't you?"

"Greatly." Lola nodded and took a hearty bite out of her burger. "Only way to shut me up is to feed me, really, or alternatively plaster tape over my mouth, though I really much rather had you didn't."

Dean huffed. Under normal circumstances, he'd have found this type of girl annoying, superficial; but Lola seemed smart and quick-witted, and he sensed a caring girl under the happy-go-lucky charm of hers.

"Did you try tracking Sam's cell phone?"

"Yeah, lead me here."

"And Zoe's?"

Dean paused. That thought hadn't even occurred to him. Lola wiped her hands clean and determinedly said: "I'd say you and me get out of here, back to my place and track Z down. I'll bet you that wherever she is, Sam will be, too."


	14. On Both Sides of the Moon

** I think we all have to fight the werewolf within us somehow. **

**_ William Kempe_**

* * *

><p>"Well, we now know she ain't in the States no more," Lola rubbed her eyes as well as possible without smearing her make-up. It had taken a while, but they'd eventually found out that Zoe's phone was no longer in her provider's coverage zone; that left Canada, since Mexico seemed a little too far away for them to have reached it within this time.<p>

"Makes sense, too," Dean murmured. Woods, forests, plains; sparsely populated. It would be easy to go by unnoticed, and furthermore: unnoticed by the hunters, who made a rule out of not crossing country lines.

"How does that make sense?"

"Nothing," Dean sighed. He so wasn't in the mood for the revelation speech tonight.

"Okay. Well, you're hiding something from me, but luckily for you, I am way too tired to be persistent." Lola stood up, "Feel free to crash on the couch, though I wouldn't mind sharing my bed, either – it's way more comfy. And yes, that was an invitation, but, not that I ever thought this day would come, I am too exhausted for activities of any kind; so, not tonight."

Dean smiled faintly. "Who even said I want you in the first place?"

"Please," she waved a hand dismissingly as she dragged her body to the bathroom, "It's obvious. Besides, I want you, and I always get what I want, so clear your calendar for tomorrow."

"Do I look like some rentable toy boy to you?"

Lola's head appeared in the doorway, toothbrush in the corner of her mouth as she eyed him up and down, "Yes, absolutely."

"Guess you would know."

Lola narrowed her eyes, sadly not finding a reply to that. That was a first for her.

Whether Dean wanted her or not couldn't be sussed out this night, seeing as ten minutes later, they were sound asleep, lying next to each other in a nearly-embrace.

* * *

><p>"That was a close call," Zoe breathed when Sam slammed her into the wall, hoisted her up on the closet and pushed her skirt up to her waist. The young moon shone onto her pale thighs, and Sam knew all too well where he'd sink his teeth in tonight.<p>

"Not really," he replied, fangs full extended, and shredded yet another of her blouses – the third one this month, and it was only the 2nd June. "I'd have gladly ravished you in the middle of the forest, too."

"Mhm," she mumbled and made quick riddance of his jeans. "Though all those twigs are such a nuisance, and who knows, there may be a lone she-wolf roaming out there, and I'm really, _really_ possessive of what's mine." Zoe pushed Sam closer towards her by digging her claw-like nails into his lower back. "Show me who I belong to," she whispered throatily.

"Shouldn't you know by now?" Hungrily his mouth devoured hers.

"I like being shown repeatedly." Her gaze may have been seductive if her eyes weren't glowing so animalishly; though to Sam, that was exactly their appeal. If he had at point planned to take it slow tonight – which he hadn't – those intentions flew out the window the very second she was completely naked in front of him, perfect thighs wrapped around his waist and voluptuous breasts heaving against his muscle-packed chest.

"Then a showing you'll get," with that said, Sam entered her deeply with one powerful thrust, extracting a sharp intake of breath from her. Zoe's heels dug into his back, taking him deeper as her lips were pressed against his neck. "Want to taste you so bad…" Her tongue grazed over his skin teasingly, sending him into an even wilder frenzy as he pounded into her. She didn't feel the bruising as her back hit the wall roughly and repeatedly, if anything, it turned her on even more.

With the first wave of her orgasm, Zoe sunk her fangs into Sam's neck, moaning his name as she tasted his blood on her tongue.

Literally screwing his plans to mark her flawless pale thighs tonight, Sam drew blood by roughly manhandling her hips, then bit her shoulder as her walls clamped around his cock. Zoe's deep red blood flowed down her naked chest as well as her luscious hips, over her pelvis and on to her thighs. "Fuck, you're so hot and sexy," he groaned.

"All yours," Zoe breathed heavily, hand buried in Sam's hair as she pulled him closer to her to make him taste his own blood on her lips and vice versa. The taste of the two of them mingling in a wet, hot kiss was utterly erotic and turning on, not that further arousal was necessary.

"It better."

Zoe smiled wolfishly in every sense of the word, and with a fierce push, they both landed on the ground, Zoe straddling Sam and never stopping in their heated rocking rhythm. She threw her toffee hair back over her shoulder, and as she slowly sat up straighter, she raked her claws over Sam's firm chest, leaving behind trails of blood. After the plowing came the reaping; Zoe leaned down and licked up line after line of blood, like an addict and his lines of coke. Except for the product, it was essentially the same.

Sam growled deeply, and any other being but Zoe would have understood it as the threat it was and ran, but she knew she had nothing to fear of Sam.

"So fucking good," Zoe smiled and ran her tongue over her lips to not waste one drop. Patience left the building for good and Sam whirled them around, roughly knocking Zoe onto the ground and pounding into her dripping pussy, clenching uncontrollably around him now as her orgasm reined her.

Sam's lips closed around her hard nipple, drawing even louder moans from Zoe, which turned into cries of pain mingled with lust when he bit down. "Ow! Fuck, Sam, God… do that again!" She thrashed her head around wildly, knowing she should feel the pain but only feeling the pleasure.

"Whatever you wish," he smirked and licked her other nipple teasingly before sinking his fangs into her other breast, too. She gave another cry of sweet pain before she came screaming his name.

* * *

><p>"Morning, handsome stranger," Lola smiled as she opened her eyes to the delicious sight of Dean, shirtless, holding two cups of coffee in his hands as he appeared in the doorway. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"<p>

"Nothing, really, since you're a talkative pain in the ass, but I thought a little appreciation was due, for giving me a place to stay and such."

"And that appreciation consists of my own coffee. Well, Dean, you are a charmer who sure knows how to treat a lady."

"Oh, ladies get plenty of diamonds and such from me, but since you're little more than a hillbilly chick, you get your own coffee," he grinned and handed her the one cup.

"As I said: charmer," Lola smiled sweetly. "You're lucky you have your looks, or I'd have kicked you out before even letting you in."

"I gotta tell you, you are one superficial-"

Lola got up, grabbed his face in her hands and crushed her lips on his, "Just shut up and kiss me."

"Lola…" Dean tried to protest, but her lips were skillful and demanding, not to mention highly persuasive.

Sure, it was a bad time, what with Sam being on the loose – and a werewolf, as may be added – and it being his responsibility to bring him back. But as Dean wondered when he'd last been with a girl he liked well enough and had spent more than one evening with, let alone a sober one, he thought it wouldn't hurt sleeping with Lola. One hour more or less wouldn't make a difference; he didn't know where to start yet, anyhow.

"This is a bad, bad idea."

"Mhm," she mumbled and pressed her lips against his perfect, soft and skilled ones, "That's what makes it so much fun."

Maybe he should point out that he was older than her by ten years, easily; but Lola didn't strike him as the type who cared, for one, and two, he didn't really look for a reason to hold her off.

"What can I say," she continued, "I'm a sucker for bad boys." She tugged at his belt, trailing her lips down his firm chest to his groin. "Quite…" she pushed his jeans down and looked up to him with hungry lusty eyes, "literally."

* * *

><p>"I think I got a little bloody." Zoe remarked dryly as she woke up and looked at her body, still entangled with Sam's and the sun shining on them. The formerly white sheets now represented a similar pattern of red as it was to be found both on hers and Sam's body.<p>

"Ya think?"

"At least it's solely our blood, and I can remember everything that's happened, too." Zoe rolled out of bed, trying not to wince at the dull ache in her lower abdomen – no matter how often she had sex with Sam on their moonly nights out, he always was that bit too much for her to handle. Not that you would ever hear Zoe complain. "Though I strongly suggest we get red sheets. Or black. Anything but white, really."

"Don't you think red and black are colours best left to vampires?"

"No idea, never met any. And if millions of teens are any indication, vampires of today live in fancy bright houses and have bog-standard rooms without even a trace of opium den."

"And there I thought I was the expert, you kinky vampire girl," Sam smirked at Zoe, who replied with a roll of her eyes; "For one: I'm a werewolf girl. And two: Stephenie Meyer is a Mormon, so I thought I'd be safe reading her books. Nobody told me beforehand that it would include necrophilia and gruesome births of vampire babies, which includes the vamp daddy slicing the baby out of the mother's womb-"

"Thanks for the visual."

"Oh, you are welcome. Anything I can do to start the day off with a bloody topic," Zoe smiled and leaned down to kiss Sam. "Now, I don't know about you, but after last night, I am starving for some waffles."

* * *

><p>"Wow," Lola was, as one of very few moments in her life, speechless. Blown away by the most powerful orgasm that's racked her yet; and nobody could accuse her of not trying plenty of times. She sank into she sheets beside Dean and snuggled up to his side; normally, she didn't do cuddling, but a strong shoulder as his just begged to be leaned on, so was she to decline?<p>

"You might say that."

"I won't walk for a week," she ran a hand through her messy hair, then she smirked: "Seems like those kind of skills run in the family, after all. So, you still regret giving in to this bad, bad idea?"

"Yes," he deadpanned and kissed her deeply, "I regret not giving into it earlier."

* * *

><p><strong>I'm sorry for the long waiting time, I was on vacation! Thank y'all so much for your support! =) <strong>


	15. All Good Wolves Come In Three

**There is something haunting in the light of the moon; it has all the dispassionateness of a disembodied soul, and something of its inconceivable mystery.**  
><strong><em>- Joseph Conrad<em>**

* * *

><p>"So, what's our next step?" Lola twisted her hair into a high bun and looked at Dean challengingly.<p>

"Whoa, whoa, we're not taking one step further together, sweetheart."

Unfortunately for Dean, he'd found his stubborn match in Lola, of all people. "Listen, Mr. Strong Silence and 'It's better if you don't know': Zoe's my best friend, and I don't know what exactly she's tied up in, seeing as you won't tell me jack, but I know it's bad. So whether you like it or not, you are stuck with my sexy ass!"

They glared heatedly at each other.

"I don't think so, princess."

"Fine, then how about this: You try leave without me, I'll pull a gun on you. Believe me, I've got one, and I can handle it, and I can aim."

"You're a terrible, stubborn bitch, anyone ever tell you that?"

"Plenty of times. I just don't care."

"Well, maybe you should."

"For what purpose, exactly?"

Dean thought of how many times he and Sam had been called crazy, or worse; it hadn't changed anything as to what they did and how they did it.

"_Exactly_. Now, chop, chop."

* * *

><p>"Sam, I was wondering… no, forget it."<p>

"What is it, Zo?"

Zoe wondered if Sam counted as schizophrenic; he was the kindest and sweetest man she'd met when he wasn't transformed, but when he wolfed out, there wasn't much of humanity left in him. More importantly, Zoe wondered if she herself may be schizophrenic, as one of her many issues; she loved both. Wolf and man. Whether she was human or transformed herself didn't even matter.

Maybe there were four people involved in this relationship, and if so, then she could say for sure that she cared greatly for the two male personalities of those four.

"Look… I'm as happy as can be. I don't regret my decisions. But I ditched Lola without another word, and… Sam, I think I miss her. She was the only friend I really ever had, and she was also the only one who stuck by me the whole time, even after the social scandal and my shunning thereafter. I just want to let her know I'm okay."

"Zo," Sam held her face in-between his hands, "you're not imprisoned. We only have to be careful not to bring Dean or other hunters on our trail. Call Lola, as often as you like." He kissed her forehead. "We just need to be careful, not paranoid."

"Says the guy who drives 300 miles to call his brother just so that he doesn't track his cell phone down." Zoe smiled sweetly. "Nope, not paranoid at all."

"Don't get cheeky," Sam grinned and kissed her gently.

* * *

><p>Zoe smiled contently as she felt Sam's arms wrap around her waist from behind. She was curious as to whether Sam and she would have been happy together – she wasn't yet comfortable with using the term 'love' – if they hadn't been supernaturally bound to each other. Sometimes she would have liked that freedom of choice, but then she reminded herself that faith was hardly any less deterministic than fate. Whether she let God guide her, or some other creature whose existence was, neutrally observed, as much to be doubted as His, were mere details in the end.<p>

What mattered was that Sam and she were happy, and that, they were.

'Happy may be too strong a term,' it occurred to Zoe, 'but satisfied. Content.'

Either way, it was more than what could be said of her former life.

"Hey, baby," she kissed his cheek.

Sam breathed in her scent, burying his face in her warm neck. "You smell different."

"I've changed my body lotion, if that's what you mean?" Zoe broke free from his embrace and walked over to the fridge to pull out a bottle of wine. After years of using the cheap drugstore brand, Zoe had switched to Body Shop; now that there was someone she could share her well-taken-care-of body with, it made sense to invest in it.

"No," Sam eyed her intensely, stepped over to her to take the glass of wine from her hand. Zoe was about to protest when Sam kissed her jaw, then her neck, all the while breathing in her tempting scent and trying to figure out what was different about it.

Then he knew.

"Sam, please, you're worrying me," Zoe was used to the silent treatment, and was fine with it; most of the essential communication passed on wordless levels between them, anyways. However, the waves of worry Sam radiated, maybe even of suspicion and threat, unsettled her.

Her mate pulled back from her, but his hands remained on her arms as he looked deeply into her azure eyes. If it weren't for the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, Zoe might have been scared.

"Zoe, baby, you're pregnant."

* * *

><p>"So, this is the kind of place you grew up in?" Lola looked around the motel room; it was held in the typical Canadian lodge-style, and really on the nicer end of cheap motels.<p>

Seeing no reason in telling her that tiny detail, Dean just shrugged, "Pretty much."

"A part of me envies you, you know."

Dean looked up from spreading his info – the ones he could openly display around a civilian, anyways - out on the table. Out of all reactions, that's the one he certainly did not expect. "Come again?"

"I would have given anything getting out of that sleepy town, to see something of the world. Hell, just a roadtrip cross country would have been fine with me. But… it never happened, and so you might say I'm as blue-eyed when it comes to worldliness as a newborn child," she chuckled uneasily.

"You certainly hide _that_ fact well, Ms Know-It-All."

"I used to be able to pull the know-it-all number off with anyone, you know; not like just one person of Bemidji has actually seen more of the world than I have, so who were they to correct me? But you… you're different. You're annoying and stubborn and resistant. And maybe a little smart and hot, too."

"Right back at you."

Lola smiled, then looked at him with strange sincerity in her eyes. Dean could tell it was an expression she didn't portray often. "I want you to tell me the truth."

* * *

><p>Zoe's first reaction pended somewhere between 'holy fucking shit' and 'thank heavens'. She'd finally have Sam's baby that she so yearned for, but on the other hand, she was still so young, and scared if she'd get the mother job done right.<p>

"But, how did you…?"

Sam smiled, and Zoe realized how she really loved his smile. It was so human, so warm and kind. "Your blood carries a hint of my scent, coming from our baby."

_Our baby_.

Now was definitely time for the 'holy fucking shit' part of her reaction. "I'm pregnant? Like, for real?"

Sensing her panic, Sam took her face into his hands and kissed her gently, "Yes, Zoe. You have no idea how happy that makes me."

In comes 'thank heavens'. Zoe beamed and rested her hand over her belly, looking up to Sam. "And me. We're really having a baby! But, Sam, what if I -"

"You won't mess up, Zo. It's in your nature, in more than one way."

Zoe wasn't convinced.

"Did you ever see a she-wolf running around with an educational guidance book?"

That caused Zoe to chuckle, and she smiled at Sam, grateful for his calm and support. "No."

"Exactly."

To think that she one day would be pregnant, and not a ring on her finger… it didn't even shock Zoe anymore. What she and Sam had was stronger than any oath taken before God would ever be. "Any idea how long a werewolf pregnancy takes?"

"Sorry, no. It's a first for me."

"See, that's where a guidance book would actually come in handy."

"Then again, it's a lot more thrilling this way," Sam replied, swept her up in his arms and headed towards the bathroom.

"That would be the positive way of looking at it, which you would typically take, seeing as it's not _your_ body that's growing round and inflexible," Zoe joked, but then a thought hit her; "How will I hunt?"

"You won't," he replied and gently set her down as he turned on the hot water in the tub, "I'll get you anything you need."

"But Sam-"

"I want you and our child as far away from harm as possible, and that means I won't let you roam the streets at night searching out the shadiest of characters. Hunters may be out there, too, and I won't let any of them get you. So you will stay here, at home, and I'll keep you fed and happy." As he talked, he slowly stripped her out of her clothes and helped her into the tub of hot water as he sat down beside it.

"What if anything happens to you?" Zoe asked worriedly. She wasn't just scared for their baby, but for Sam, too; forced companionship or not, she cared greatly about him.

"It won't," he soothed her and leaned forward to kiss her. His hand dived through the foam into the water and found her thighs. Slipping between them, his fingers moved upwards.

He sounded so sure that Zoe believed him, and decided that any remaining doubts she still had could be cleared some other time. "Oh, Sam…" She arched her back in anticipation, urging him to finally stop teasing her and satisfy the lust he'd sparked up in her.

"Yes, baby?" He asked innocently.

"… you know," Zoe wiggled impatiently, rubbing her thighs against his hand as means of explaining to him what she meant.

"No, I don't, actually," he replied and traced his fingertips all around her lap, but never to the spot Zoe needed him to touch. So she decided to take matters in her own hands, literally, and laid her hand on Sam's, guided them to her entrance and rubbed them over her clit. The erotic mixture of his mate pleasuring herself along with him pleasing her made the jeans fabric strain over Sam's hard-on; but he was determined to give Zoe her sole pleasure first before he'd find his own release one way or another.

As Sam slid two fingers inside her, Zoe took her own hand away and relaxed; as far as she could with the tension building up inside her at Sam's practiced movements.

"Touch yourself," he groaned in her ear, and though surprised at his request at first, Zoe complied without second thought. She cupped her breasts, felt how they already were heavier in her hands from her pregnancy and brushed her thumbs over her rock-hard nipples. Combined with Sam's fingers fucking her, it sent her over the edge. "Sam, oh, fuck, so good!" Water splashed as she arched her back and thrust her pelvis onto Sam's hand to hit that spot even harder.

Once she had her breath back, Zoe smirked and climbed out of the tub to sit in Sam's lap, naked and wet as she was. "Let me repay you."

"But not here," he growled and carried her wet body to their bedroom, where Zoe took over the reins as soon as the door closed behind them. She pushed Sam down onto the edge of the bed and got on her knees before him to tug his jeans down, springing free his rock-hard cock. "So big and hard…" She moaned longingly and slid her tongue over his tip. "Come in my mouth, baby," she got an all fours in front of him and began sucking him, "Want to taste you…" She closed her lips around his cock and took him into her mouth inch by inch, teasing him with her provocative tongue games.

Sam grabbed the back of head and pushed her onto him deeper, gripped by lust and desire. "Zoe, fuck, you're so good."

"Mhm," she mumbled, gliding her tongue along his length. "All for you, baby. Wanna make you happy."

Somewhere in the back of her mind, a tiny voice allowed itself to complain that what she was doing right now was a sin; Zoe squelched said voice fiercely and continued working her oral wonders. "Taste so good, Sam… Want to swallow you up."

Her deep-throating him was all it took for him to finally allow himself to release that fiery tension she'd built up within him, with her skillful tongue and that sexy naked body wiggling in front of him. Zoe swallowed the last drop of him and then got back on her knees, wide smirk on her face and her breasts brushing against his thighs. "You are aware that it's not full moon."

"Mhm… why?" Sam pulled her up onto the bed beside him.

"Well, it's just that what we just did didn't have the slightest thing to do with what we are…"

"I don't need to be a werewolf to desire you, Zo."

* * *

><p>He had tried putting this call off for too long already; now the responsibility of having Zoe <em>and<em> their baby to care for weighed too heavy on him as that he could shoulder it as well as the guilt. Did it occur to him that by calling his brother, he'd put them in danger, too? Certainly. Did that make it easier for Sam to wordlessly ditch the one person he had always been able to rely on, who was willing to die for him any given day? Definitely not.

"Dude, what the hell." Dean greeted him. The lacking warmth wasn't what surprised Sam; rather that he'd picked up at all.

"Dean… I screwed up."

"Figured. I also figured you did not only screw _up_, but screwed a pretty blonde on the way, too. Tell me, is she a howler already, too?"

Sam wondered if it hadn't been arrogant to assume Dean didn't know. _Of course_ he would know. Dean knew him better than he himself did; and despite a lack of academic acknowledgment, his older brother was most definitely smart (though he seemed to see it as a fault and often did his best to cleverly hide that attribute).

"Now would be a good time to tell me I'm crazy, Sam."

"Believe me, I wish I could."

He heard Dean sigh and cuss something NC-17-rated under his breath. The one time Sam would have preferred his brother to freak out and throw a fit, Dean decided to be calm and un-reproachful. It made matters about a thousand times worse.

"Since when?"

"Before I got my soul back."

"Great. And it didn't occur to you to maybe mention to me that you suddenly have a time of the month?" Alright, so maybe the 'un-reproachful' part had been hasty to assume.

"Of course it did, Dean, I just didn't know how, alright? Saying 'Oh, by the way, I'm a werewolf' over the daily cheeseburger didn't strike me as the suitable option."

"Fuck 'suitable', Sam! You should have told me the damn second you knew!"

Sam sighed, "I know, Dean. And I also know that sorry doesn't cut it. But it's all I can give you right now."

"Tell me where you are."

"You know I can't do that."

"What are you afraid I'm going to do, huh, Sam? We both know that I did some seriously stupid shit in my time, but shooting my brother never was and never will be among them."

Shoot him? Maybe not. Shoot Zoe? Probably not – but Sam couldn't be a hundred percent sure, and he wasn't willing to take the one percent chance Dean might pull the trigger on her. "I'm a werewolf, Dean," It was the first time he really said it out loud, and somehow, the words had lost their paralyzing terror that they had held in his mind until now, "We never thought twice about shooting the monsters in our path, and we can't make exceptions just because it's us. We're not better than anyone else. There is no cure. If you found me, you would have to kill me, I would want you to. And regardless of whether you pull the trigger or not, you will always blame yourself for choosing the way you did. I'm not going to do that to you, so please, Dean, just let it go."

When did a Winchester ever let something go that included family?

* * *

><p><strong>I know, I know, it's been forever and three days, and I am incredibly sorry! I got good reasons for going underground for so long, but I doubt you're truly interested in that, so I won't even start whining. =D <strong>  
><strong>Thanks a billion to all those who have supported me this far, this chapter goes out to you =) <strong>

**Love you all! **  
><strong>xoxo<strong>


	16. Cubs, Cures and Cupid

**Oh the werewolf, oh the werewolf**  
><strong>Comes stepping along<strong>  
><strong>He don't even break the branches where he's gone<strong>  
><strong>Once I saw him in the moonlight, when the bats were a flying<strong>  
><strong>I saw the werewolf, and the werewolf was crying<strong>

**Cryin' nobody knows, nobody knows, body knows**  
><strong>How I loved the man, as I teared off his clothes<strong>  
><strong>Cryin' nobody know, nobody knows my pain<strong>  
><strong>When I see that it's risen; that fool moon again<strong>

_**- Werewolf by Cat Power**_

* * *

><p>Doing the morningly marathon run to the bathroom, it occurred to Zoe that though this didn't appear to be what she had planned to do with her life, it was what she had always wanted, if slightly altered.<p>

She had wanted a husband, and had gotten a fiery lover.

She had wanted a family, and got herself a werewolf baby growing inside of her.

She had wanted salvation, and she'd gotten damnation.

"Zoe, are you okay in there?"

She had wanted a docile, boring life, and gotten a satisfying, exciting existence. And perhaps a more loyal partner than Marc would ever have been…

"Define okay. If that definition includes 'puking my guts out', then yes, I'm doing okay," Zoe replied dryly, flushed, and brushed her teeth before she opened the door to face the father of her baby. She plastered on a weak, but honest smile and got herself her good-morning kiss.

"I'm sorry, Zo," Sam brushed his thumb over the porcelain skin of her cheek, though he wasn't too sure he meant it. He hadn't done many things in life he was proud of, and seeing Zoe grow round with his child was one of the rare things that did make him proud.

"No, you're not," she smiled, proving that she was his perfect match in more ways than just nature's whim, "And I wouldn't want you to be, if you were."

"Good to know, for future reference," Sam cupped her face between his large hands gently and kissed her soft plush lips.

_Future_.

Would they even have one?

* * *

><p>"Alright, I take it back," Lola said dryly, head swimming, "I do not want to know the truth."<p>

"You asked, princess," Dean smiled humourlessly, "Now, if you're going to pass out, I'd much rather you do it now, it'll spare us inconvenience later on."

"Do I look like some fragile brat to you? I am not going to pass out, damnit, just need a second to breathe! Hell, you just told me monsters are real and that my best friend most likely is one!" Lola took a deep breath. She realized this was one of those moments in life when you had to be calm or you ended up six feet under soon after; so she bit her tongue to keep from throwing a fit, and slowly said: "Is there a cure?"

"None that I know of," saying it out loud made Dean realize there really might only be one option left, one he could never pull through with, "And I've looked everywhere."

"Well, there has to be," Lola insisted. In a way, Dean admired her; she had no clue of this life and still believed she did. It needed some serious healthy self-confidence for that, along with a general belief that life would turn out sunny-side up eventually. Dean had been the 'scrambled eggs' type for a long time… when was the last time he'd even felt optimism?

"Look, sweetheart, this is not just a simple disease that can be cured with a good dose of antibiotics, alright? It changes your damn physiology and you're a monster forever."

"To every problem, there's a solution. What, you believe that bad, paranormal crap happens but that this world isn't cuckoo enough to turn it back good? Come on. If there's a way to turn a human werewolf, then there's a way to turn a werewolf human."

Dean looked at her and the determination in her brown eyes; did she maybe have a point?

She chuckled uneasily, "Wow, I can't believe I'm saying this and actually believe it. Strange world. So, are you sure you've checked every last possibility?"

"There is a contact or two I haven't called yet…" Dean started slowly, refusing to hope in vain, and checked the magazine of his gun. "I need to know, though: Could you pull the trigger on her when it came down to it?"

"What? No!"

"Good."

* * *

><p>Zoe stretched comfortably and turned around, expecting to feel Sam's soothing presence beside her. Finding the bed empty, she jolted up, wide awake and flipped on the bedside lamp, panic and unease rising in her throat, assembling to form a cry of fear.<p>

As a werewolf, she was far from helpless - technically. Practically, however, seemed to look a little different… The full moon outside was shining brightly, and yet she hadn't felt it rising in her blood.

_Zoe, _

_I'm out hunting. I didn't want to wake you, you were asleep so peacefully, and I know you need it. _

_I'll be back soon and take care of you and our baby, promise. _

_Sam_

Zoe's lips rose in a faint smile, before she remembered why was alone in bed in the first place: It was full moon, Sam was gone – and so should she be. 'Well, darling, seems like you cured me from my insomnia on full moon nights,' Zoe carefully ran a hand over her belly. Their baby was starting to show, and if Zoe hadn't missed the sex-ed classes, she would have remembered it was too soon; for a human baby, anyways.

On the upside of being drained of her werewolf energy was that she didn't feel the burning thirst for blood scratching away at her. However, that didn't quench her hunger for Sam.

Considering she was already pregnant, it was rather safe to guess that 'basic primal instinct' was out as an explanation. Leaving what?

* * *

><p>"You want to know something dramatic?" Lola pressed her naked body against Dean's.<p>

"What, more dramatic than Sam and Zoe being werewolves?"

"Mhm, in a way," she mumbled and nuzzled her nose in the crook of his neck. "I've broken my rule number one."

"That rule being?"

"Never sleep with the same guy twice unless you're dating him."

"Unless he's worth it," Dean smirked, running his hand through Lola's long hair. Not that he'd say they were serious, but damn content together, that they were; and it was by far more than he'd ever expected to have again.

"So, I was wondering," Lola rolled onto her stomach, propped herself up on her elbows and looked at him in the weak light of the bedside lamp that they had forgotten to extinguish in the heat of the moment. "Since we both agree that we will never pull the trigger on Zo and Sam… how do we catch them and keep them down until we've found a cure?"

_We_… Dean sighed. Not that Lola would be that great of a help, considering her rookiness, but fact remained, he didn't feel so horribly alone in this anymore.

"Silver bullet to the heart kills a werewolf, but if you shoot him anywhere else, he'll just be weakened, enough to overpower him."

"So in the end, we do pull the trigger, we just need to aim right."

"Pretty much."

"So much for that part; how we're going to find them?"

"I hate to say this, but: Follow the trail of victims."

Lola didn't reply, and when Dean looked at her, he realized it wasn't because she was about to have a nervous breakdown. "What is it?" he demanded.

"It's just… how human do werewolves remain when they transform?"

Dean frowned, not liking when he didn't know where a conversation was headed. "Not at all, as far as I know."

"Okay, but say that Zo and Sam can somewhat control it. I mean, Sam must have been turned months ago, but he didn't turn Zoe until last month, though he sure had opportunity to."

Dean straightened up, feeling how the first messengers of age and an unhealthy lifestyle crept into his bones. "So your point is that you think they can control it. That they don't have to kill, even when they change."

"I'm just putting theories out there, you're the expert. So you tell me."

"Honestly, I can't. Because at this point, if anyone suggested that werewolves could be vegetarians, I would believe them in an instant."

"Because you want to believe it," Lola stated softly, then added a little louder: "Well, tough, Dean, we can't bend reality the way we like it, we have to make do with what we have. And at this point, it's one incident of bloody murders, not more. So let's just say Zo and Sam went a little crazy, out of the spur of the moment of Lord knows what, but normally, they're the sweet, self-controlling people we know them as. So no more deaths on their head, because…" Lola waved her hands around, "Geez, I don't know, they take their hunger out on each other."

"Okay, wrong images in my mind now, thanks."

"Wouldn't have happened if your mind wasn't living so close to the gutter," Lola snapped sweetly. "Back to business."

Dean sighed. "Yes, maybe, it's possible. Either way, to be quite honest, a body count is only my second concern. We need to find a cure."

* * *

><p>"Hey, Zoe," Sam approached her from behind, leaned down and kissed her neck tenderly. Zoe made an effort to rise, but he gently pushed her down again; he wanted to spare her as much strain as possible. Standing up at six months pregnant struck him as straining, especially considering that werewolves only were pregnant for six months. Not that Zoe or Sam knew <em>that<em> part yet.

Sam ran a hand over Zoe's belly, where his child was growing inside of her. Whether the proud father instincts came from his werewolf or human self, Sam couldn't quite say, and he didn't exclude the possibility they came from both. "What are you doing?"

"Decided to let my mother know that despite her efforts of praying for a lightning to strike and kill her wayward daughter, I'm still alive and don't regret anything I've done." Zoe's hand rested on top of Sam's, and if one didn't know better, one could assume they were just like any other family. The tiny difference being that the baby was a werewolf, like his parents, who were hiding from hunters out on their heads, and whether Mommy and Daddy loved each other wasn't to be said for sure, either.

To those people who only care about appearances, though – so that would be an estimated 90% of the population – this scene looked perfectly normal.

Sam looked at the letter in front of Zoe. "May I?"

"Certainly," Zoe shrugged; it wasn't like she had anything to hide, not from Sam, anyways.

"_Dear Mom, if you even still deserve being called that,_

_Just wanted to tell you that I'm still alive, even though I'm sure you'd be happy to hear different. I'm unmarried and pregnant, and living in sin with my lover, and loving it. _

_Zoe._"

Sam kept his eyes on the paper for a minute, as if he waited for more text to show.

"And?"

"I like it. Straight and to the point. Emitting any unnecessary poignancy really adds to the unique bond of mother and daughter speaking from those lines."

Zoe laughed, "Yeah, yeah, professor, thanks for the literature lesson. Any improvement suggestions?"

"You could add that you've become Canadian. Add insult to injury?"

"Stop making me laugh, it makes the baby kick," Zoe chuckled and pressed a hand to her belly.

"I love seeing you laugh, and I love feeling our baby kick," Sam kissed her cheek.

"Fine, then how about this: Stop making me laugh or I may start developing unhealthy romantic feelings for you."

"We wouldn't want that?"

"You tell me."

Sam looked at her with an unfathomable message in his hazel eyes. Zoe had learned that the code necessary to decipher those messages was lost in translation. "Maybe some other time."

Truth was that Sam wasn't sure if he _loved_ Zoe, and neither if it would be an improvement or not if he did. He cared about her greatly, and he'd do anything to keep her safe, and she would be the mother of his children; but was that the same as loving her?

"Well, regardless of whether love enters the room here or not: Is there any ice cream left?"

"Just stocked up on it yesterday."

"Now that," Zoe carefully rose, "is definitely a step in the romantic direction, my hero." She smiled and kissed him lightly, wondering if there would ever be more between them.

Then again, what they had was more than many 'normal' couples had. That meaning an amazing sex-life, undoubted loyalty, trust and having more in common than two _people_ could have. Such as a hearty diet, pardon the pun.

Most importantly, they were a family, whether romantic love was involved or not.

* * *

><p><strong><em>Thank you all for sticking with me, I know I haven't been a busy bee updater lately (there are reasons for that, but I won't make excuses, so let's just leave it at that). But you guys are truly awesome, thank you so much! =) Not a lot of action in this chapter, I know, but even Sam and Zoe deserve a break. ;) More 'plot' going down next time. <em>**

**_Lots of love_ **  
><strong>xoxo<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>For the werewolf, for the werewolf has sympathy<strong>  
><strong>For the werewolf, somebody like you and me.<strong>  
><strong>And only he goes to me, man this little flute I play<strong>  
><strong>All through the night, until the light of day, and we are doomed to play<strong>

**For the werewolf, for the werewolf, has sympathy**  
><strong>For the werewolf, somebody like you and me<strong>

_**-Werewolf by Cat Power**_


	17. Lead to Hell, Cry for Battle

**cub** [kʌb] (n.)

the young of certain animals, esp. the bear, wolf, lion, and whale.

Category**:** Mammals

(source: definition/cub)

* * *

><p>Under normal circumstances, Zoe was retrospectively pretty sure they could have dealt with it on their own. But at the time, when her water broke at just six months pregnant, they'd freaked – hospital seemed the sensible way to go then.<p>

Only until the moment their son was born, though, and they faced the problem of explaining to the baffled doctors as to why their prematurely born child was perfectly healthy, and not of the frail kind, either (with Sam being his father, what did you expect?).

"Sam? Everything okay?"

He turned to look at her and their son. A smile lit up his face, but didn't quite reach up to his eyes and erase the worry written in them. "Of course, Zoe."

"But?" she arched an eyebrow.

"But I'm worried about word getting out…about Caidan."

"And by 'word getting out', I'm assuming you mean 'reach hunters'." Zoe stated tonelessly, pressing their baby (cub?) a little closer to her breast. She didn't know when it had started, she just knew it was there, beating violently in her chest now: The feeling of being in the right. That what she – and Sam – had done was nothing to be ashamed of, let alone worthy of being killed for. Apart from that bloody night in Bemidji just after she'd been turned, they hadn't killed anything human (at least, not as far as she could remember. And she remembered most of her werewolf nights.).

They were lovers, they fought, they fucked, they fed. They had a baby. They were a _family_ – how was that any different from the way regular humans lived? Wasn't that maybe even _more human_ than what real humans did?

"We can't hide forever, Zo."

"We did a pretty good job of it for almost a year."

Sam smiled weakly, "Exactly. That seems like too long a time to pass all hunters already."

Annoyance flared up in her; of all times, Sam picked _now_ to get all pessimistic and fatalistic? "So, what, we just lay down and-"

"_But_ I'm never going to let anything happen to you and Caidan, Zo. And if they send a whole army after us."

Zoe smiled tentatively. "We could just raise our own little army, you know. A whole pack of werewolves doesn't sound so bad…"

He bent down and kissed her heatedly. "Let's get out of here and started on that plan right away."

* * *

><p>"Guess what Dr Mortensen had to say," Dean arched his eyebrow, sighing as he climbed back behind the wheel.<p>

"Judging from your lemony face, nothing good."

He shot her a glare at the 'lemony' and started the car, "Understatement."

"Am I going to have to get the tazer out and shock it outta you or are you gonna spill?"

"Patience is a virtue."

"So is chastity, supposedly, and I don't see you keeping to that. Or patience, for that matter."

"Touché," Dean sighed again, "There was a birth three months back…"

Lola decided to shut up for once and wait for Dean to continue. He had the tendency to get cranky when she pushed too hard (of course, it was a whole other matter when _he_ pushed too hard in the _bedroom. _Damn cynic.).

"Premature, the girl was only six months pregnant when she gave birth. Here's the catch, though: The baby was fine."

Lola frowned, "Medical care these days is great, and premature babies surviving isn't that rare anymore. Six months isn't a death sentence any longer."

"No, I mean, 'fine' as in 'as healthy as a full-term baby'."

"Oh," Lola had that queasy feeling in her stomach that she sure knew Dean must have felt, too, "Well, shit."

"Now, it could be a whim of nature."

"Or it could be a werewolf baby born. Wolves carry their cubs for three months, you know… humans for nine… which might put a werewolf baby right in the middle…"

Dean gave a curt nod, "Six months."

"Or we're seeing ghosts." Lola frowned, "Well, we are, but you know what I really mean. What'd the doc say about it?"

"That it was unusual, but not impossible."

Lola huffed, "If anyone's ready to declare anything strange a miracle, it's doctors. So that doesn't necessarily mean anything. They're just too lazy to investigate. Which I assume is awesome for Sam and Zo, seeing as they won't have to explain why they want their baby – or cub, or whatever – vaccinated against rabies."

"Now that was just tasteless, even for you. But funny."

Lola smirked at him. "That's me, baby. And you love it. So, we got a lead?"

* * *

><p><strong><em>So, long time no see, sorry about that! And sorry again for making it a short come-back, I hope to provide more soon. =) <em>**

**_In case you feel cheated by the way I skipped ahead to the baby being there and want to read about gory birth scenes, let me know and I will add them in later chapters. It's just that you read them a lot everywhere, so I didn't want to play the same tune again... but as I said, willing to write it for you if you want. _**

**_Enjoy your weeked, folks! =)_**


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